Sitting,
Watching,
Street people passing,
Inside a dim lit coffee shop,
Neon blue sign blinking,
"Open",
Alone I am,
Wondering,
Have they been in here?
I am in here thinking,
Inhaling fresh coffee scent,
Which fills my lungs,
This is serenity enjoyed,
Peace brought to mind,
My escape from world cares,
Or boring senseless chores always to be done,
Staring into my empty cup on table in front,
A partially consumed memory of steaming coffee,
Looking through a dusty window,
Its Cold,
Dreary,
Now Winter,
Or Summer,
Sometimes spring,
Or mild fall,
Then a voice,
“Let me warm that up for you.”