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Save A Place For Me
Sitting alone at an off-season sidewalk table
of some trendy New York coffee house
with a crisp suit and newly polished shoes,
a man looks at his watch that had stopped years ago.
His eyebrows lower with his shoulders,
countenance taken from the front burner
and placed on the rear where the ebullition is lessened
to relieve his satin-neglected lips of their dutiful smiling
and his mind of the random act of hoping.
He gently whispers words that are undetected
by the business women with running shoes,
poets, politicians, paupers,
or men wearing pin-striped suits and blinders.
The age old trees enclosed by metal grates
seem to sing his tired refrain,
and he looks up with the utmost gratitude
only to find that their limbs are just marionettes
animated by the cool breath of the wind.
He looks down again at his coffee--
no sweetener, just as the doctor had advised--
and talks to it humbly as if it had the sense,
or as if it even cared to listen.
After watching this poor soul for some time
from a rusted iron table not far from his,
I heard him say, "To whom it may concern:
save a place for me, I'll be home soon."
© 2013 Nicholas Emeigh
Read by the Author
Part of the group "Record-A-Poem," and part of the Playlist "The Poetry of Nicholas Emeigh" which includes 40+ other poems.
Notes: This poem was written in 1999 with my grandfather in mind. It was published in 'Dreamshadows' in 2000. 'Dreamshadows' is my high school's poetry magazine.
The unique works displayed on the pages herein are © 1997-2013 Nicholas Emeigh. Use is restricted.
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