in the
twinkling of an eye
a young
couple enter the sidewalk cafe
sit;
begin wiping wet hair
from
their faces, and eyes; they order.
cappuccino’s pervades the air.
“on impulse, their
damp fingers, become
entwined.”
as
poets, we
long for
inspiration, to put pen to paper:
we
observe; let possibilities
roll, like,
like
pebbles down a slope;
now and
then
the
mental pebbles comes to rest
bringing
naught;
per
chance’
the muse
hovers, strikes,
a
revelation unlocks;
“in a flash, words come; we
scribbled
on any scrap
of paper, or coaster to hand.”
I do not
know what
what I
would have done, had I not captured
the
photo’ inspired, by an everyday
café
scene:
my
coffee forgotten
scrawled
words leave me with a cold cuppa
Cappuccino.