In a Small Cafe

Author: Kieran Furey

I like to think of this poem as a harmless little squib about a harassed office worker who goes off to a cafe and, basically, forgets to come back. What she does is, I suppose, a bit like poetry itself: a small assertion of a kind of freedom.

I’m sorry, no, she’s not around.
She’s in a meeting with the wind;
On her lunch-break; gone to ground;
Chaired and tabled; lost; not found.

She’ll not be back within the hour.
She’s meeting heavy metal power
In poster form — the Eiffel Tower —
While coffee cools and cream goes sour.

Terrace Breeze has moved a motion
Of hot sunshine and lazy ocean.
Sod the office, shove promotion;
Small cafes stir her emotion.