The Empty Coffee Shop

From the outside, we could see
the owner standing next to the cash register,
gazing down at the counter,
his black reading glasses perched
on the bridge of his nose.
The gaily painted chairs stood empty;
every table gleamed, not a drop of
spilled coffee, scattered sugar or
crumpled napkins.
Every night it was the same; a lonely
man waiting for company that
never arrived.