COFFEE SHOP

 


An ordinary coffee place on a dark day. The patrons blending into a blankness. Their faces backlit. Still there was poetry here. Each person a blank sheet of paper to write on. Places for lines of rhymes.


The one at the door waiting, how no one talked, just the sound of the coffee machine. The patron at the end of the coffee bar looking at the waiting one. 


The jars of coffee beans on the wall. The barista you didn’t get a look at, the other making coffee for a person serious in standing. The quiet movement against the buzz of the city. 


All poetry in the moment, if you looked….

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