Sights in a Small Town Cafe

Java Moose

java moose in grand marais

I watched the lines continue to grow,

all wanting, waiting, wishing,

yet I never knew the latter,

especially by expression,

I only managed to maybe gather,

their reasons to be seemed rather

the same as mine and yours.

 

Not your typical cafe I might add,

the people wanting much more,

than the usual scenario

-to see and be seen-

to more be understood,

to be in line with a certain

pleasure,

beyond the usual fare.

 

In a north-wood cafe,

the goal is not to stay,

yet it seems the rains have made it that way,

so the lines have increased,

though the attitude remain the same,

we are all part of this universe,

and today is just another day.

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Coffee Peace

Outside the wind is sound

the sign of an autumn sunrise

gray clouds heavy

winter’s grasp on reality

hot coffee in hand,

soothe my anxiety,

my refuge from the cold,

a suitable blend in a cup.

Coffee, Please

Coffee Shop

summer brew smells and delights for everyone to taste

we all arrived at different times all wanting the same ideal

perhaps a latte, summer cooler, smoothie, I will preference

a hot black coffee

please

we are your neighbor, business woman, lunch breaker, visitor,

we will talk about  a lot of the same things all day long

everyone repeating themselves, imagining their unique

take on virtual reality, that world we all stroll through

brought to attention with the sweet aroma

of dark roast, medium brew, chocolate, or perhaps

DECAF!

(seems almost sacrilegious)

little does it matter though once the dialogue begins,

once the wardrobes arrive,

once all of the interactions teeming to notice one another

settle into the comfy chairs and the hardback postures.

I like to imagine people’s lives while sipping my coffee

black

no cream please, leave the sugar out, I think it is a healthy dose

of fresh-brewed

obsidian.

always please remember

to tip the barrister.

Finding Peace

dunn

dunn brothers coffee

Polar opposites,

same wavelength,

parallel universe

finding an excuse.

~

Want to recognize

people have habits

means little to me

so why bother them.

~

On the street corner

he stood resolute

looking only ahead

alone we might exist.

~

I studied biology

felt dissected again

when all of the I’s

came out to play.

~

If we use rhythm

carve out a path

for God’s sake

please stop the lie.

~

The electoral poll

is a stateside secret

on the planet round

a laughter prevails.

~

I’m sitting down

mind travel sky

physicality static

remains the same.

~

travel for miles

search for vacancy

when will YOU truly

make an appearance.

~

This energy begins

a routine exam

forever again,

a new search within.

Crowd Noise

painting by Debra Hurd

painting by Debra Hurd

While saxophone serenade melody,

glance across the room, and the world is alive,

with activity, purpose, longevity,

we all seem to want a similar drive,

waiting for the sunset,

while just realizing the crisp morning of a summer day,

we are living without any regret,

sharing our lives together with coffee and a gentle sway.

The rhapsody of that surreal breeze,

listen, can you hear the emotion of that chord,

the fingertips strum soft the lines,

that music, that interlude, such a marvelous journey.

While the noise of an active hustle creates

a steady rhythm of ‘hello who am I’

the eyes wander the room,

we all have our lives,

if only together, we might sing the words,

that suggest universally we can play the saxophone –

we might listen while the jazz plays our song.

Sunday Morning Ambience

Coffee nearby,

always seems a staple,

how we begin a new

state of mind.

We could recognize ourselves

as just part of the game,

yet,

there seem to be so many games afloat.

How do we choose,

the path,

when Frost spoke of least resistance,

how do we now return to his wall,

to decide just why we did

venture upon that side of the story,

argument, debate, cathartic

uprising in the mind.

Sit alone among the same,

sipping coffee,

a little tease of Guatemala,

here in my hometown,

where I can pretend,

by the click of simple keys,

I am going to take on a personal sojourn,

today is only one of many,

Sunday morning ambience,

leaves my soul with choice,

passion, desire, wants,

I want this today,

just let me figure it out on my own,

relax, sip, glance,

a sweet smile inside remains pensive,

those around need not know.

Coffee

coffee

Coffee.

Let’s start with an average day

sunglasses, scarves, sweatshirts, scenery

books, and newsprint, magazines and thick look.

Well, kindles and IPADS, laptops – usually new

smartphones,

huge minis, air, and Androids

with no invasive notions happening today

unless you sit nearby,

then perhaps you get the look.

Coffee

always black,

say it freely and without reservation.

I like my java

black as night,

black as the strongest memory of a nightmare last night,

black as that guy over …

unless you sit nearby.

Moments that leave a bitter taste.

Coffee

When you think about it,

we all join the movement.

What if we sat down,

without the quiet corner

wicker chairs pulled together,

whispers behind the bricks

when we then might share one another?

Just for today.

Coffee

Could bring us altogether, a new journey

calling out our souls

choosing opportunities to ignite

chance fires of interaction worth desire,

unless you sit nearby …

You might actually overstep boundaries.

Coffee

Would you like a little room?

Make it light please,

a shot of mocha,

my favorite blend

a depth charge too, please

To help my day with a jump-start,

Unless you sit nearby …

Then I might have to converse with you,

too.

Coffee.