Cafe Creme

- or your favorite coffee shop, wherever it is -

It’s noisy here,

the sound of intermixed conversations

overheard mingled with laughter and giggles

at something I didn’t hear, didn’t catch,

and the scrape of a chair or the shutting

of the door letting in the cold, the stomping

of feet pounding off the snow carried in

by the very soles on our shoes, heavy boots,

whatever’s fashionable, attractive – and warm –

or lightweight summer-wear defying

the season, addressing our hardiness, here,

and the buzz from somewhere above us,

electric lights or the sounds of busy-ness

filtering down through the ceiling, up from the floor,

or behind the counter where we ordered our drinks,

this constant din we accept, barely aware it’s there,

just the noise of this place that touches our palettes,

even as we sip our lattes and tea, home-baked

goods sweet on our tongues, enjoying the company

of friends and strangers among us, their mingled laughter

and conversation, voices reminding us we are not alone,

humanity in need of others’ company, others’ lives,

and a good cup of coffee, a warm muffin.