At the Café
by Anna Margolin
1
Alone in the café now,
as voices hush and fade,
as lamps give off a pearly glow
and float out of the café
and over the street—
like luminous swans.
—Waiter, black coffee—demitasse!
Alone in the café now,
with moments rustling like silk,
I raise my dusky fragrant wine
to the street, to the distance.
And like…
