Last night, I stopped
at the local coffee shop;
you were sitting alone
writing poems in your journal
and muttering to yourself.
So I bought you a drink
and something to eat
before sitting at your table,
but you stood up
pouring your words
into my coffee cup,
leaving me the pumpkin scone
and crumbs of discarded rhymes.
Through the glass front door,
I saw you stumble once,
then turn and wave goodbye,
clutching your journal
to your chest as if it
were a small child,
or an unfinished
line at the end
of a poem.
Michael Minassian is a contributing editor for Verse-Virtual, an online magazine. His chapbooks include poetry: The Arboriculturist (2010); Chuncheon Journal (2019); and photography: Around the Bend (2017). For more information, visit: https://michaelminassian.com