Selected Poems
Cafe De Flore
Waiting for you at our café.
Snow starts.
Fluffy manna flakes fall
bless shallow plates and
collect in water glasses.
At our table, set for two.
Underneath, I wait
stand with wine and smoke.
Imagine Camus and Sartre
there, begin and end.
Staff begin to gather chairs, inside.
Snow finds space between green awnings
and the corner wall, sticks to the ground and
anoints my hair. Snow finds my skyward face
turns to rain and wakes me.
You will not be coming, today.
Waiters, at last, take our table away.
Snow starts.
Fluffy manna flakes fall
bless shallow plates and
collect in water glasses.
At our table, set for two.
Underneath, I wait
stand with wine and smoke.
Imagine Camus and Sartre
there, begin and end.
Staff begin to gather chairs, inside.
Snow finds space between green awnings
and the corner wall, sticks to the ground and
anoints my hair. Snow finds my skyward face
turns to rain and wakes me.
You will not be coming, today.
Waiters, at last, take our table away.
