I am sitting in a café,
On a rainy Saturday,
Watching people pass the window,
As they hurry on their way.

The barista's making coffee,
Steam is rising in the air,
I can hear the gentle chatter,
Of the patrons everywhere.

A couple's sharing secrets,
In a corner by the door,
While a student reads her textbook,
Sprawled across the table's floor.

The rain keeps softly falling,
On the pavement, on the street,
And the rhythm of the raindrops,
Matches footsteps of the feet.

I sip my cup of coffee,
Feeling warm and feeling fine,
In this little cozy café,
Where the world is left behind.

A man is reading headlines,
From a paper in his hand,
He frowns and sips his latte,
As he tries to understand.

A child is drawing pictures,
With crayons on a pad,
Her mother smiles beside her,
At the artwork she has had.

The door chime rings, a newcomer,
Shakes the raindrops from his coat,
He orders something warming,
And he clears his scratchy throat.

The café hums with life now,
As the morning turns to noon,
And the rain outside keeps falling,
To a gentle, soothing tune.