The Cafe

One minute we
were taking in
the summer sun.

The next, the rain
began to fall
thick enough
to give the impression
that the end of the world
was just across the street.

The icy drops
began to pelt
our faces
where only moments ago
the sun was threatening
to burn.

Our mouth,
smiling what seemed
only seconds ago,
now yelled f**k
against the
unrelentingly chilly wind.

our eyes,
who only just
then,
scanned for
the beauty that the sun
wanted to show
through the spotlight of its rays,
now needed my hand
to shield them
from everything
the sky brought.

And so we took
it all,
Umbrella-less in the storm.

Until we found the cafe.
On this corner,
the coffee ran hot, and the air blew dry.

In each of our chairs we found refuge,
if only in a square foot.
At least the rain didn't fall here.

Author's Note

free verse obviously, no influence from any type of poetry, messiness is intended.

Reviews

[Michael Kikle]

This is seriously golden work, friend. Outstanding.

[Pegs Van Damme]

Wow, that's immense. Thank you, man!

[Michael Kikle]

No, thank YOU! This is one of those very rare poems I read and think: "I wish I wrote this." lol. Keep up the great work, man.

[Pegs Van Damme]

I appreciate that a lot, huge inspiration. I'll keep refining the craft.