There’s an older couple here –
Faces wrinkled from smiling –
That collects people like cherished trinkets.
They wave and smile and invite people to join them – if they feel more social – and if not,
“We’ll be just over here…”
Another couple sits in front of them
their laptops open
fingers wrapped around cups of coffee
He, the younger, leans in to the other
examines whatever’s on a third screen hidden from view
Midway through their conversation, the older
removes his earbud
but only for a moment.
Another has become a trio
She having adjusted the furniture like she would in her own home.
Their business talk around a low coffee table
right across from me.
Meanwhile the First –
the ones with all smiles –
focuses all their energy on a woman they’ve collected.
They listen, rapt and open-faced, at the story she tells them.
The bald man barely contains his joy
holding his face in his left hand.
She, with short yet shaggy grey hair, struggles along
concentrating with strained and squinted eyes,
as the younger tells her tale.
All around us are stories
Fighting for creation
And then they rise to leave
though they don’t want to let go