Café Tables
Raud A Kennedy
Driving down Newbury Street, I’m terrified
Of the bored moment.
You know the one.
A man and a woman sit
As a couple at a small table,
Drinking, eating, but not conversing.
Their eyes are crushed snails.
Their facial expressions, day old pancakes.
I’ve been that man, and the fear
Of being him again
Makes me
Look away.
