A COFFEE SHOP IN PORTLAND

Coffee glitters as it fills up a glass.
Liquid ambrosia and sunshine illuminate
hard wooden tables and chairs, newspapers, people
hustle-bustling or slipped in their seat, hands dancing
over keypads and pages, lips flying as they tend to
conversations that melt into the jingling murmurs of
setting glasses, dribbling liquid, hurried footsteps, and
shadowy whispers of rhythm and blues or cool jazz.
Men weave in and out, wearing aprons and gentle voices.
Quarters clink on the table, my lips leave kiss marks on glass;
feet tiptoe through doors that rhythmically open and close,
keeping a steady beat as life swells and fritters inside —
the artery and lifeblood, of small business America.

This poem is included in The Sophomore Year Experience poetry compilation.

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About Amy

Amy is a freelance writer and artist based in LA. Her hobbies include romanticizing her world, having too many moody thoughts, and wandering through neighborhoods she's never been in.
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