the couple in the cafe

The Couple in the Café.

The elegant smiling woman at the next table,
sitting quietly with her companion,
his hand resting loosely around his beer.
Gentle jazz soothes, whispers, slides between them.

She takes a paper napkin, slowly begins
to wipe the table, checking for marks,
examining from all angles for
crumbs or spills of food or liquor.

Satisfied she puts the tissue down.
He is watching her, wordless,
following her motions with his eyes
curious, as I am, to her purpose.

Then she looks up at him, smiles again,
puts out a hand and invites him
to rest his hand in hers. He smiles
joins hands and laughs gently into her eyes.

Such a long conversation without words,
when they left, laughing still, his hand
on her neck gently, possessively,
guiding her through the open doorway.

I watched them walk away, hand in hand
My single coffee, my single table, my single life
suddenly shrunken, challenged in that moment.
I would no longer fear love.

from my latest volume Gaia's Angry Daughter