Photo by Hatim Belyamani on Unsplash

Poetry Cafe

You open the doors like opening a book.

You may walk into a cafe’ or pub or even a tea garden.
You know the scents:
Ink and paper
Coffee and incense
Dust and sweat…
The smells may vary
but we know their meanings.

I walk amongst the tables
old friends nod and say “Hello”
some are haunted by what they want to say
some are talkative
some are quietly watching

They come from roads open or narrow,
from dark streets and drug dens,
from farms and forests
to the Poetry Cafe.

We sit timidly at first
but then we are invited
to share in the magical creations.

We pass the hours
in dimensions of new realities
and laugh and cry.

Dana Sanford
2019

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For the Good News Daily ‘Why I'm Here’ series