The Coffee Shop

To meet as friends
In charming cafes
Sheltered from the rain
In heightened chocolate heaven

The giggling gives you away
As does his brusque handshake
You speak in tones untuned
Breathless voice askew

His bland latte un cafe
Hides not the curve of his pitch
She is sweet, and brings you pictures
His ancient voice gravelly slakes

She listens rapt to the feel of your stories
Of worlds she will know and form
The meet of the mentor social
The making of the butterfly

Does the butterfly
Need a cocoon
To become the queen of the bees

Or will she get there on her own

Already her voice is deeper and slower
The hangee being hanged
The clink of coffee cups
The contract be damned

Conversations about the mundane
Places, times and people that gather
Who care not that they today
Brought these two together

Destined by patterns
To dance the possibility play
To remember moments of lost pasts
And bring the future another

Will they play out all the acts
Or save them for another day
Is it really the same game
That both think they play

My coffee is cold
I watch no more
These stories ever unfold
Samely much again they are told

It does not amuse my weary eye
To see the wolf and lamb
Gambol across the meadows bedewed
As if it is the land they alone subdued

The dew it falls fresh each morn
It is but devils play
To set the canvas afresh
For mortal skeins to slay

Foolish feigns
Indulged anon
Scented feints
The game is on.


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