Vintage Postcard

Vintage Postcard
by S.G. Wiley

She’s cranking a radio
the radio in her hand,
she’s cranking it
and playing it
sitting right next to me
at the back table in Starbucks

Three pairs of sunglasses
a can of clam chowder, Manhattan
a half empty bag of tissues
a sewing kit and three packs
of gum
spread out on the table
right next to me
in Starbucks

an hour passes, maybe two
and the contents remain
minus three tissues
and one piece of gum
which is now void of flavor
and rolled up in a napkin
next to the crankable radio
at the back table, in Starbucks

everyone else, including me
possess the essentials
a laptop, a book, a newspaper
or perhaps a notepad and pen
and certainly a cup of coffee
while James Taylor softly played
in the background of Sunday morning
at the back table in Starbucks

she’s writing on a postcard
a vintage one, with ornate stamps
“hello, my love. I got you a radio
for your care package
along with a bagful of goodies
to get you through your stay
by the way, I’m sitting at
our favorite spot in Starbucks

all of my judgments and criticism
gone. And the foggy pane of ignorance
shattered.
her phone rings, and she whispers
hello my love, I miss you
i have so much to tell you
and things have certainly changed
there are some strange and nosey people
in Starbucks