Café Geometry - BeeWaee
Café Geometry,
angles of light,
square afternoon folding into night.
Tables in rows,
quiet and clean,
lines on the floor,
no one is seen.
Just keep the distance,
measured and kind,
space for a body,
space for a mind.
Steam from a cup
draws in the air,
soft, disappearing curve of a prayer.
Sugar and packets stacked in a pile,
white little rectangles waiting a while.
Spoon on a saucer rests in a ring,
circle that knows almost everything.
Window divides inside from street,
people in fractions walk by your seat.
Neon reflections tilt and align,
coloring coffee like a thin sign.
This is Café Geometry,
angles made of time,
quiet human distances,
shape without a line.
This is Café Geometry,
simple, oh and warm,
hearts learn how to fit without a perfect form.
Notebook open, crease down the spine,
sentences leaning out of a line.
Hands around mugs,
make hidden squares,
small private shelters,
nobody shares.
Countertop edges shimmer and stay,
waiters move smoothly through intersecting ways.
Voices overlap,
softly, subdued,
sound becomes pattern,
pattern becomes mood.
Sun through the awning stripes the wall,
afternoon ladder, quiet and tall.
Shadows extend then slowly break,
geometry changing with each breath you take.
Clock on the column marks out the air,
circles on circles saying we're here.
Even the silence takes up a place,
resting its elbows on the table's face.
This is Café Geometry,
careful living art,
how we sit together,
slightly apart.
This is Café Geometry,
measured by a glance,
lines made of waiting,
curves made of chance.
Plates make borders, knives draw a gleam,
milk in the coffee softens the steam.
Door opens gently, cold enters in,
draws a new figure over your skin.
Bill on the tabletop folded in two,
small paper polygon saying we're through.
You stand then linger,
not ready to go,
your shadow stretches long and slow.
Café Geometry,
quiet tender proof,
that shapes can be made without a roof.
Café Geometry,
staying free,
room in the pattern for you and me.