On an undated winter night
When all the places are 68 degrees F
Except your bachelor apartment
You go out to sit in a coffee shop
Where you hold intimately
An innocuous cup of hot coffee
Waiting to reflect on something significant,
Or sink into the world in communion
But all you see within
Are empty chairs, clattering crockery,
And the vanishing smiles of waiters
While outside
The night-bulbs shine starry-eyed,
The moon nowhere in sight, and
People hurrying like warm shadows
Through the shimmer
Occasionally touching
The bitter fragrance of coffee
Crowding your shoulders
But refusing to feel
The unknown comfort
Of just being alone.
