The Café
I would sit there for many hours
Surrounded by my contemplative silence-
My senses as warm as my latte;
My mind as frosty as my cheesecake
The mixed scents of Earl Grey, cinnamon tea,
Mocha, and caramel macchiato would encircle me
Almost like they slowly become part of
My breath: breathe in, then stealthily breathe out
I would hear laughter coming from one
Corner and whispering from another
And each corner would seem to me more like
A different world, each as distant as an era
I would at times engage in a crossword puzzle
Or skim through all the contemptuous headlines
And at other times I would simply read, think,
Write, or just watch some cars indolently pass by
The sounds of music playing, coffee brewing, fork-knife
Clattering and people chewing would all form
A unanimous sound: Serenity
I swallow it down with every sip of my coffee
In these amber hues for hours I would sit
Amidst these faces, leather chairs, and empty
Spaces- the same coffee would brew, the same
Music would play, and my same mind would
In its serenity, so utterly subdue
Copyright © Farah Chamma | Year Posted 2010
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