Notice we always want,
what we do not have?
Mostly its money,
recognition or such.

Or, it's what we missed
or left behind.  
We pine for the
should have been ours.

Selfishly.

For we ignore,
this great gift.
We simply overlook,
what reflects in the mirror.

A unique collection of cells,
a grouping of thoughts,
living.  An unnatural state,
by rights, it would appear.

So maybe we should
instead consider ourselves,
unbelievably fortunate.
In simply living.

We are glittering dust on the face of time
Swept up and scattered
Like jewels glinting in the ether
An exhale of decades past
Burning up quicker with age
Shining brightly for a moment
A brilliance tempered in rage

I dropped my pencil
it fell under the table.
I left it there.
I desperately wanted to continue to write
-but-
anxiety told me no.
Told me it was impossible.
There were too many people in the room
bending down would look awkward
disturb the person next to you
make you a pitiful inconvenience--
so I left it there.
I couldn't even pick it up when I left.
Because Anxiety was right,
it was an impossible task.

The elegance of sitting in a coffee shop alone,
With a coffee to your right,
And a biscuit to your left,
Listing to the slow songs on your playlists,
No one to talk to,
Not the lonely kind of no one,
The comforting kind,
Everyone minding their own conversations,
Meanwhile you're all alone,
In the coffee shop,

It was a small intimate cafe where he sat, pondering the
questions of life. For some they would never
experience things that he had discovered in his.

As another sip of coffee trickled down his throat. A
women nodded as she walked by, he nodded
back in his cordial way.

His head turned, he looked out the window framed in
dark  green drapes, and people returned his glance as
they sauntered by.

Another day in the lives of so many he thought, as
another minute ticked by. He watched like a
movie the lives out the window who had
no idea, hadn’t a clue.

As another sip of coffee trickled down his throat, a bell
rang out disturbing the conversational flow within
the cafe, the door opened and another patron
entered and nodded as they walked by.

His coffee gone, he placed his chin on his fist, elbow
on the table, like the thinker, he looked out that
window with its dark green drapes, cozy and warm.

Today was yesterday and tomorrow today as he
realized he had no clue as to why, when,
where or who.

The answers no closer, he would come back tomorrow,
to ponder the questions of life once more. To nod to
the patrons as they came through the door.


http://www.charlesdennis.netne.net

© 2009 Charles Dennis