As I sit, drinking my morning coffee,
My eyes drift lazily along the wall
To a photograph hung
Behind the counter.
Who is this woman
With her back turned to me
Looking out at the water
I peer into her stagnant world,
The frozen image of waves and the ocean breeze;
And the hustle and bustle of the shop
Into quiet babble
Which soon becomes
The calming sounds of water lapping against the shore
And the distant voices
The sun casting dark crimson on the waves;
I am there
Standing behind her
Looking out at the calm stillness of the bay.
The woman in the photograph
Did she briefly turn
To smile and greet me?
Must have been my imagination.
I’ve finished my coffee now
Farewell, my love.