Sunday, November 29, 2015



Perhaps I had forgotten to tell you
why I do this
out here on the steel railings of a coffeehouse
chairs stacked up on tables
brushing down the deadbolt click of a
chapter’s final word
the easy snap of a dictionary.
I need this
I need this more than
solid blue numbers in a checkbook
a young girl’s smile
a cereal with fiber

Grant me one small brake on the
steady slip of time
a night-fed gap where teenagers
kick coffee cups around the parking lot
where tomorrow’s mist hangs high
across the road, patient as a hawk
and your thoughts settle so heavy and warm
that your eyes cannot quite focus.

And so, if I had forgotten to tell you
that place, tonight
I was there
and my head still rings with sound.

Notes: Written as a response to my Dad's quizzical looks when I embarked on my nightly three-mile Rollerblade trips to the Coffee Society in Cupertino. Just across the street from De Anza Community College, the place had a rowdy, young energy to it, a quality that I valued very much.

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