Café

I came in for a place to stare
At nothing from a sunken chair
To lose to a Sumatran dream
Underneath a cloud of cream

Others seem to be alone
While grafted to a mobile phone
Or furiously "diarising"
No time for philosophising

I suppose He won’t be found
In beans, however freshly ground
In mocha with an extra shot
But then again... where is He not?

Sumangali Morhall
March 2005