The Weird Guy

The Weird Guy Aprils wet day has rained Since sunrise Mid-day In a friendly café The patter of skies falling water Lost in the strangers chit chat Un-listened to music Bleats But peaceful and calm And glad we all are Warm as we are To sit and sup on beer And coffees with brandy Around me So many unrecognizable faces Banter back and forth Saying “Hello” to friends Spending their time careless In the welcome arms of “Waldemar’s” café I sit alone Perched on a bar stool Breathing the smoke My short drink cooling I am surrounded by an invisible wall Even the space around me Is larger than most I am writing And the odd man With the note pad and pen Is left alone to his curious expression And far way stare And as usual I am thinking of her Her face, her auburn hair Times we spend together Somewhere I don’t know where Embraces and kisses we share Somewhere In the quizzical spaces of reality She speaks to me And in these moments I am not alone No not alone Even though the empty place she preoccupies Sits filled by her at my side Hangs there A vacant arm wrapped round her waist With all those small reminders Of loves everlasting gratitude As warm and supple as the hip beneath The soft cotton of her dress She smiles at me Baby propped in the crook of her arm Mother Lover And all three of us Equal One The curiosity of my expression Holds the wistful seconds Flooded out in silence So many of the café crowd have noticed The weird guy With his note book and pen Looks around and meets their hopefully unmarked stares But he pays no attention Doesn’t even see them It’s the fall of curls and hazel eyes He sees And the world in a fuzzy haze For now cannot break his desire and need For a life still perched Upon a bar stool seat Waiting to happen