Friday, February 17, 2012


I pour my coffee from the pot; take a moment to savor the french toast.
It's 9 a.m.; classical music fills the air
And conversations are all around.
As I sit in my new favorite hole in the wall
I think, this feels good;
Sitting solo with my notebook.
And i think of you.
I dare not contact you and be rejected;
You made it clear there would be no friendship.
But I think, perhaps things have changed;
Time has aired our differences.
You look good and I'm doing fine.
Maybe we could have a conversation?
You'd really like this new coffee shop of mine.