They come in waves
An ebb and flow of clientele
In and out like a restless sea
Seeking favourite seats and corners
In the back, or near the big window
The regular morning ritual
The daily caffeine fix of choice
With standard order and loyalty card
The constant soundtrack of the machine
Grinding and gurgling, brewing long shots of espresso
Americano, Mocha and Latte
The counter filled with cakes, chocolates and teas
And cups, mugs and spoons clanking
Clattering in saucers carefully carried away
Singles sit quietly, stirring froth
Peering into phones or computers
Thinking of their different lifestyles
Absorbed in the not-here
Thoughtful, contemplating
Playing with the sugar sachets
Or flipping idly through the papers
Ladies in twos and threes
Hustling and bustling
Amid bulging shopping and handbags
Between crowded tables
Dropping voices to a whisper
Through confidential sections
Of their general gossiping
Chatting and chattering
Lingering till lunchtime
Before rushing away
The coming and going briefly pauses
The noise drops down to a whisper
Leaving chairs at awkward angles
A rare respite in operations
The barrista sighs, wiping his brow
And a waitress clears the tables
Wiping surfaces as she goes
Behind the receding tide
Of floating humanity
Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2012
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