by Richard M. Ankers

Entering to a bell as though welcome,

overt smiles greet these scowls.

–

With so many luxuries to enthral the senses,

we choose the simplest and sit.

–

Classical music graces unseen speakers

hidden from view, not mind.

–

This is ambience by design, perfunctory;

we close our eyes to elsewhere. 

–

Curlicues of steam make mysteries

of a developing morning,

–

that huffs and puffs beyond a 

forcefully fogged window;

–

we chill to our forefathers as the bean,

prized and perfected, percolates.

–

Leather seats make false luxury

for this temporary king of the hour.

–

Brief lives pass in ever-cooling sips

and whorls of ochre gloop. 

–

Time to go. Time to leave. The misting

cityscape is just another dream

–

I have no wish to wake to, and

definitely no wish to wake from. 

–

The End

Thank you for reading

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Richard