Tradition in Kent

As I sip my hot drink, I gaze across the table

Admiring the way she clutches her coffee.

All the while, my shirt is stained with crumbs,

she wears a pure, clean T.

 

We laugh out loud to the fellow coffee drinkers,

discussing history and politics.

And at the one painting me with water colors.

Quite literally.

 

What is the turning of time at a coffee shop

but startling whispers and news of nothing new?

But those are the minutes that count the most.

So if you agree, even just a little,

invite me for another cup.