You’re in a movie
You are.
And the extras, for a change,
aren’t walking into you.
Everyone parts for the invisible camera
that pans along your quick gait
as you walk into the Utopian Cafe
where there’s always an empty seat
by the top floor window
and
“everybody knows your name.”
The baristas’ Pandora station
has the right mix of ’70s and current soul music, so
you put away your earbuds
and enjoy someone’s else’s soundtrack
for your day.
The smell of roasting beans
wafts up to the rafters
as you reach for the ceramic mug
of dark blend, and wonder how long you
should wait before ordering a grilled pepper and tomato sandwich on rosemary bread.
There’s time.
It’s your movie. This day was the gift you
wrote for yourself
and nobody else.
There’s time,
and, for once,
it’s not your enemy combatant
or fellow prisoner.
It’s just there,
and you’re just there,
together, and so are
Al Green and Isaac Hayes.
Long shot: Sun and blue sky overhead.
This is such a terrific poem. The way you explore this idea is so original and surprising.
I love the line “Everyone parts for the invisible camera
that pans along your quick gait”
also “There’s time,
and, for once,
it’s not your enemy combatant
or fellow prisoner.”
Thank you, Caitlin. Coffeehouses are my favorite place to be, and I’ve missed sitting in them for a few months.
Starting with the title — oh, yes! And every line plays into that title. Clever woman!
The setting is not just visual but peppered with smells, sounds, tastes, and rich emotions. Alone but surrounded by others who, somehow, are not out of step — even if not in step — with you.
Those last stanzas — the peace in that time and space — what could be a better gift? Al Green and Isaac Hayes? Oh, yeah! Perfect soundtrack for your scene.
Thank you, shirl. The best soundtracks seem to be from a much earlier time and place.
I can feel the soft rhythms of that soundtrack.