The hum of conversation

clinking glasses -coffee cups

The buzz of the grinder

People rushing – people resting

conversation and solitude

The local coffee spot

whitewashed, shiplapped

old hardwoods with a story to tell

I sit alone

I search for an eye, maybe  a smile

waiting, hoping, searching

I see…Mothers and daughters

friends and lovers

business in the making.

Who sat in this seat before me?

What story did they tell?

Does anyone care about mine?


One thought on “Alone

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