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Small latte to go he says
As a shaker claps against itself
Voices murmur around like gentle waves at the beach
People in pairs, singly and in little groups stand, talk
And make way for one another
The door opens a young man in ear muffs
Comes in with the cold sigh
Of the end of winter
Music in the background something faintly choral
Acts as the news, the consent of all the world
That we should put on our warm winter clothes
Early in the morning and hurry through the cold
Our breath announcing us like the king’s trumpets
For a hot morning drink and food answering the need
To gather – strangers—
Not strangers
Not strange.
Copyright 2024 Elizabeth Romero

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And I feel the cold and heat and the presence of strangers, not strangers. Human warmth.
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Yes, Betsy captures the strange feeling of being home and not home.
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I love it when, with a remarkable economy of words, a poet can say SO much. Here’s the perfect example:
“a young man in ear muffs
Comes in with the cold sigh
Of the end of winter”!
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Perfect economy.
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