Treasure Island

Janice Windle


Coffee in Nero's


He and she
hand in hand
find a table in the window.
The sun slants in,
reflected from the cobbles,
from chrome hub caps
and baby buggy handles
on to the sleek lines of the expresso machine,
back to her eyes
shining
(with remembered desire?)
He places the carrier bags
on the soft worn leather
of the comfy seat in the window.
She looks to him as he
goes up to get her cappucino
(“Ciocolata on top, sir? ”)
They sit, smiling,
remembering,
and I

watch

and try

to read

my

book.

Submitted: Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Edited: Thursday, November 27, 2008

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Comments about this poem (Coffee in Nero's by Janice Windle )

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  • Chitralekha Chetia (8/26/2008 10:37:00 AM)

    Makes me smile. Very beautifully descriptive of a rather common situation. So often this happens with me too.... I am staring and eavesdropping. Couldn't have been put more beautifully and crisply. I am beginning to love you love poetry. (Report) Reply

  • Donall Dempsey (8/2/2008 4:01:00 PM)

    How beautiful you are... in your seeing and what your mind elects to alight on and delight in...a perfect little movie...as the story unfolds and begins to begin. This is obviously not the beginning of the enn...rather it is...the end of the beginning. I love how and what you see...your awareness has such a deft and loving touch.

    love Donall Donall (Report) Reply

  • Roger Cornish (7/31/2008 3:30:00 PM)

    Fantastic Jan!

    You seem revitalised!
    Its in every line

    Congratulations lady.........
    A big fat 10! ! ! ! ! ! !
    Roger (Report) Reply

Read all 5 comments »

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