Late Night Café

Sitting in a late night café
Cradling coffee and our private tortures
On this hot summer night
Nothing seems right
As I wait for you
To speak.
As we sit by the window,
The world passes by
And the breeze in the trees
Whispers to me.
My heart is on the ground
Swept away with the cigarette butts
I am drowning
On this late summer night.
Sitting in a late night cafe
Coffee untouched and words unsaid
Nothing feels right, and tonight
…I am alone in a crowded room.

(c) 2004

 

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51 Comments

  1. Excellent Poem!
    you’ve done an excellent job here.
    the feelings are embedded as naturally here, as the hues are within it’s beholden flora – perfectly.

    the return of sitting is a late night cafe rounding out the poem at the end….and the capstone: alone in a crowded room.

    untouched coffee and words unsaid…great symmetry in words.

    just a damned good piece.

    this is a perfect little poem. good Job!!

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