café

some people sit

squarely in the

 

world, an umlaut

atop an accolade.

 

it strikes me suddenly as

i flit on this splitting branch

 

that i know    nothing.

 

i watch people watching

me watching them:

 

a wizened man cursing the

maze he must maneuver;

 

a leering lit professor,

emblazoned.

 

i wonder what they see when

they    look-glance    through me:

 

the nesting couple

kiss-whispering;

 

the absent-minded mother

gripping the hour.

 

the über-weight of the rare

gaze-landing, the heady fleeting

 

feeling that    we are one.

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3 thoughts on “café

  1. Love the image of someone ‘gripping the hour’. Thanks for sharing your poem.

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