One Evening at Rider’s Cup

Sitting in a coffee house

Listening to a friend sing.

The barista is kinda cute

And I’m wondering,

What the hell am I doing here?

I’m almost 50,

And the barista is probably

About my daughter’s age.

I don’t even drink coffee.

But here I am.

It’s not like I imagined.

Not the coffee house,

Nor being almost 50.

I expected a little more

I feared it’d be a little less.

Aren’t coffee shops mythic places?

Isn’t 50 one step away from death?

This shop is clean and kinda cool,

And 50 looks kinda do-able

At least at the moment.

So 50 and the coffee shop

Are what they are.

So I guess I can relax,

And drink my chai latte,

While I listen to the music.

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2 Comments

Filed under poetry

2 responses to “One Evening at Rider’s Cup

  1. Thanks for the connection to your new blog. I’m so happy that the creative offering I gave at the coffee shop is carrying out ripples in your own voice!
    Relax, coffee shops are music, clean floors and chai lattes!
    Tara

    Like

  2. Didn’t you say something recently about getting back to this blog?

    Like

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