Cuppa Coffee

I’m in New Hope
At a table
On the large veranda
Of the Starbucks
At the corner of Bridge and Main.

It’s a balmy day out.
The first one after a heatwave
And I thought I’d write something.

But there’s legs out today.
Lots of them.

And most of them are beautiful.

I want them all
But they don’t want me.

Some of them are too young.
Others are just passing through.

They walk by
This way and that.

They can smell trouble.

Some are looking for trouble
And they smile at me.

Keep walking.

Those legs have got me writing the most imaginative poems
I’ve ever written...
In my head.

When I look at the page
Or the screen
In front of me
They are blank.

I’ve written nothing.

I’m easily distracted today.
By the weather.
By the legs.

Even my coffee just sits.

Like me.