BUTTER ROCK CAFÉ

By Abigail Warren

 

If ever we find ourselves

sitting in a restaurant,

 

or teahouse, or even

a bench in the park,

 

old and ready for sleep

but still able to get on,

 

perhaps a holiday with

light baggage,

 

please, please,

let us hope we still

 

have something to say

to one another, like

 

didn’t you love that

chatty taxi driver?

 

or, isn’t the tea and toast

lovely?

 

Let us not

be like the couple

 

across the room from me now

their tea and sandwiches done

 

both staring, one out the window

the other at the wall

 

nothing more to say

after all the years,

 

no more discourse, no niceties

no touch of the hand,

 

have you had enough, dear?

let us not go silent

 

let us not not speak.


2 Responses to “BUTTER ROCK CAFÉ”

  1. Ian says:

    Abigail ~

    I love this poem. That is such a compelling image, and one that is seen too often. Thanks for this piece.

    Cheers!

  2. ira rubenzahl says:

    What a beautiful picture this poet paints. The narrative carries the reader along, making one curious until the final punch line. Bravo Ms. Warren.