Monday, November 4, 2019

Writing at the Coffee Shop



“Writing at the Coffee Shop”

in this roomful of noise,
the words come and go,
conversations mingle table to table, with piped-in music—
buying coffee in its endless combinations,
trying to catch the servers
with substitutes for milk and substitutes for sugar
and substitutes for coffee—
every bite every sip suggests
some other word
(some older world, with calories with fats with caffeine)—
the offerings are actors upon a stage
presenting a performance of a sleepy trucker
at a diner counter warming his hands
around a battered mug—
today, what is the wi-fi?
where is the outlet?
is the internet down?
the desk is a tiny round table
cluttered with cups and crumbs,
I type

Sunday, September 8, 2019

A poem by Ana Osan. The pictures are a repeat.


La playa bonita


A pesar de las numerosas nubes,
La playa de Bonita Springs
Se nos presenta
Como un lugar acogedor.



Desde una gaviota,


Hasta los niños que están contemplando en
Meterse en las olas del mar,


Y hasta unos turistas 
Que, bajo sus sombrillas
Apuran los últimos rayos de sol,

La playa de Bonita Springs,
En esta tierra florida,
Siempre se nos presentará
Para todos nosotros
Como un lugar acogedor.


The beautiful beach


In spite of the many clouds,
The beach of Bonita Springs
Always presents itself
As a welcoming place.

From the seagull,
To the kids who are contemplating
Going into the waves of the sea,
And even to the tourists
Who, under their parasols
Use up the last rays of sunshine,

The beach of Bonita Springs,
In this flowery land
Always presents itself
For all of us
As a welcoming place.