Coffee Shop “Hero”

Coffee Shop “Hero”

A Poem by Arly Parent

There's a limp in his step

a stutter

<thuh-dump thuh-dump>





He's a mess.

Shambling over,

ambling over,

to the front counter.

His misformed steps sound throughout the room

But it is silent otherwise

<thuh-dump> <thuh-dump>

Hands go to mouths

Coffee cups slide slowly to tables

Their passionate embrace with haughty lips forgotten



for even They stop to listen

to the rhythm of the limp behind the man

to the silent shrieking scream over his shoulder

to the stories his brow would tell



his steps

<thuh-dump> <thuh-dump>

<thuh-dump> <thuh-dump>



with every one a fine brown dust

puffs

puffs



a fine brown sand

a sand not from this place

nor any around this shop

a sand slightly red and hinting of gunpowder, sweat, tears, and forgotten families

and sand from the brown silt of a grave of a continent

a middling sand



he orders his coffee

and pays with a smile

staunch with a hint of weariness

sweet but not too sweet

bitter but not too bitter



and he pulls back



<thuh-dump> <thuh-dump>

<thuh-dump> <thuh-dump>

<tinkle>

...the tinkle at the door as it closes



The hush

then the rush

of sound



subtle murmurs

now forgotten

relief

he's gone

© 2012 Arly Parent


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Reviews

All I can say is 'Wow'! This was just amazing. I agree with Marie. You can definitley picture everything in this poem. You describe it so well.

Posted 11 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

You've told a great story with this poem. One can picture the man limping toward the counter...limping out again...all watching...wanting to deny...

Posted 11 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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332 Views
2 Reviews
Shelved in 1 Library
Added on April 11, 2012
Last Updated on April 11, 2012
Tags: shame, honor, haughty, treatment, war, veteran, middle, east, africa, death, hurt, wound, wounded, hero, fatigue, misplaced, sense, self, ideal, courage, coffee

Author

Arly Parent
Arly Parent

Lantana, FL



About
There's nothing about me. I play with pauses as well as silence. I write words, assign meanings and junk, and play with a language that might be as much my own as another. I don't know. more..

Writing