Caffè Nero, Sunday

Outside, summer hums and pulses,
hot by ten o'clock;
inside, baristas in black aprons,
embodying cool,
a gentle underchatter,
molto simpatico.

 

Two bottles of sparkling water

at the table by the blackboard,
two books.

 

Mass in 45 minutes:
no rush as St. Agnes's 
is just one block away.

 

I trust this day's
companionable voice,
its laid-back rhythm.

 

I bask in the light 
of the faces around me.

 

This is Arlington,
my Arlington.





Poetry by Thomas DeFreitas The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 339 times
Written on 2017-06-26 at 10:18

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email
dott Print text



Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
I'm with Pony. This poem radiates familiarity and contentment. I moved away from my home. Now, I can't feel that contentment there or anywhere else.
2017-06-27


one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
Trust is everything.

A few seemingly simple lines strung together conveying your sense of peace and place. But it isn't that simple, to write so simply. Well done. I can only imagine such familiarity.
2017-06-26


ken d williams The PoetBay support member heart!
Bravo, Tom.
Ken
2017-06-26