The Invisible Smile

There was a little adventurer, a questioner, a curious, nosy girl she was

She saw a man just sitting there, in thought he seemed, ignoring her

What do you do? What do you write? She looked him in the eye

I think of things and write them down for someone else somewhere

A woman comes and fills his cup for what seems the hundredth time

What is the story, what did you write, is it something I might know

He smiles at her and says: "Nothing yet!" As if everything's just fine

You lied to me, you said you write but there's nothing you can show

If this is all I have to do, then I could be a writer, too

He looks around and turns to her his eyes are bright and glow

Yes you could in as much as I could fill those cups

but what you are is something else, and I wouldn't ever know

Dwelling, tossing, pondering, she finally smiles at him

Go ahead and ask me now, don't you want to hear?

A steaming cup, he begins to type, hammering away

Finally he stops and looks at her, she smiles from ear to ear

What are you then? "A writer", she says, loud and without a beat

She has to leave and says goodbye, her mother by the hand

Like a statue set in stone, not moving for a while

But when you look close enough, on his face an invisible smile.