Birds of a Feather
The little pub was quiet,
the waitress in repose,
but I needed some hot coffee
and a chance to warm my toes.
As I sat, content to sip my cup,
the old crowd filtered in.
So happy just to reunite
and see old friends again.
A glad hand here, a how you are,
a word about the weather.
Not important what we say or do,
just glad to be together.
We dispersed then, a bit refreshed,
another day to face.
The world without our loving friends
would be a lonely place.
Copyright © Joyce Johnson | Year Posted 2009
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