Wooden Cafe Table

a reflection of my earlier thoughts

Clouded memories ran through the air,
As I sat aside the wooden cafe table
Memories whose existence I was unaware,
Somewhat made my heart tingle.
The warm tea, the gentle music playlist
Alongside as I stare at a busy damped street;
A familiar breeze calls up my senses
Unlocking vague memories on repeat.
Bitter remembrance once fallen into oblivion
Made its way back unexpectedly,
Unknown to these subtle emotions
I fall into my pit of unpleasant memories.
The busy street now fell into silence,
As the tea began getting cold
The gentle music that felt of pleasance
Now sings a melancholy soul.
Closing up the obscure playlist,
Finishing up my frozen tea;
Leaving the cafe as yet clueless
As to what my conscience had to tell me.

Author's Note

Wrote this some time back when I was still a younger me, struggling to find my footing. I wouldn't say it's perfect, but it's still me, figuring out who i was as a writer and simply just scribbling away.

However, i thought I'd still share this here as a reminder of how far I've come along and grown as a writer.

- s.b

Reviews

[Ern M. Yoshimoto]

i really liked this. the first lines brings us to an everyday, domestic setting, but imbues it with meaning the way still-lifes do. but then there is a turn. what the persona hoped would be a good day is ruined when their problems return to their awareness. and the tea slowly gets colder and colder... the poem then ends on an uncertain note. the persona leaves the "scene" and we are let wondering where they will go and what they will do. it is dramatic. it is relateable. it immerses us in the moment.

[seren]

Thank you for such a thoughtful analysis ! You've beautifully captured the essence of my poem – the delicate balance between peace and turmoil. I'm grateful for your insights and glad you found it relatable.

Much appreciated !