Literary Yard

Search for meaning

By: Balu George

cafe

I was at one of those roadside cafes.
The kind where you can sit endlessly,
Have a coffee or two,
And watch the world go by.

But I was not interested in the world,
I was interested in the girl sitting 4 tables from me.

She was oval faced,
With big sleepy eyes,
Sensuous eyes, lonely eyes,
Dark hair up to her shoulders,
Dusky,
An air of mysterious grace about her.

She was waiting for someone,
I guessed.

Outside the café,
A stray dog,
Lying on its paws,
Watched the folks walking by.

A middle-aged man enters the café,
Walks up to where the girl sits.
She gets up, smiles. They hug,
He whispers something into her ear,
And her face lights up,
Her sleepy lonely sensual eyes
Alive and bright now.

The stray wanders into the café,
And sits beside me.
I stroke his head,
And wonder what it was that the man,
Whispered to the girl.
Then realize,
It is none of my business.

I get up,
Light a cigarette,
And walk out, in to the darkening evening.

 

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