In a coffe pot

Alfred Haydes


Tonight, like every night, you see me here Drinking my coffee slowly, absorbed, alone. A quiet creature at a table in the rear Familiar at this evening hour and quite unknown.
The coffee steams. The Greek who runs the joint Leans on the counter, sucks a dead cigar. His eyes are meditative, sad, lost in what it is Greeks think about the kind of Greeks they are.


English Language; English


Copyright (c) 1990 Alfred Haydes

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