Coffee Weather

I miss the coffee-shop era

of my life: the sips, the conversation,

and the glances that enchant

time and space into a marvelous

hue of shared memories—

episodes of soft whispers

and guitar strumming melodies—

A sense that anything and everything

could happen before and after

I offer you my seat and exit the cafe

with the hood of my sweatshirt over my head

and my hands inside my pockets,

whistling your name under a puddle

of a few stars still waiting to make an impact

in this world.