Mild Winter

Come with me
let me take you to tea
to watch women and men in
long hair and necklaces
ducking out of a rain shower

Into our warm cafe, passing quickly
by lovers like us, brushing by
potted plants in full crimson bloom
as we plan a fantasy trip to Africa
in this half-crowded room

Knee to knee at a puddled table
coats piled like ideas on enameled
benches, lying about like bored girls
in summer, safe from storms
in wait for a moment of abandon

And the steam of tea to shuffle out
of shoes, stretch in silk and cotton
surrounded by a winter cafe and us
leaning over a map of the world
knee to knee

You have come with me
and time feels like freedom.

by Don Brennan