A Secret Rendez-Vous

He was unfaithful again.
He’d run off secretly to the café
for a cappuccino and a short sojourn
watching the light sparkle off passing cars,
and frame the bouncing bobs of laughing girls
flittering along in their bubbles of mirth,
or in serious self-absorption
like the men marching determinedly,
plowing their self-importance forward
into the vast indifferent world.
But, fortunately, there was the light
and the freshness of mid-morning
to add effulgence to the cappuccino foam.
Ah, but all too soon the time came
to trudge back to the family job
of husband and father,
leading his loved ones to their food
and away from their fears,
absorbing their complaints
and appreciating their dreams.
He would be careful to keep his mistress secret,
if he could,
for poetry was really too elegant for him anyway,
even though he did enjoy her company
in secret rendez-vous on fair mid-mornings
of drifting along a lazy river of thoughts,
with cappuccino.

16 August 2016