Watching the bees
Recycled paper / pages worn from being read / five poem chapbook.
the classical music station
from Switzerland and
from my bedside table
plays for me
all night long.
And when I fall asleep,
and each time
I wake up,
they speak me back
to my dreams,
and in music,
From the Starbucks perch / life momentarily seen; / moving, flowing, lived.
With my watch at home
With my watch at home
it’s easier to know
that the correct time is
and where I am is
Until I leave
and this place
I am right where
I need to be
and the only place
I can be.
I like that.
The Big Bean, Severna Park, Maryland
This morning I left my watch at home on purpose, and drove to Severna Park to walk on the B and A trail for a while. It used to be a railroad line, and now it’s paved for walking, bicycling, and horse riding. It runs from Annapolis to Glen Burnie, near BWI. I walked about a mile north, then back, from the Severna Park crossing.
Just walking was beautiful. My favorite thing I saw was a stand of bamboo, some of it very tall, and very thick. It has a unique sound, creaking in the wind, and fluttering the dried leaves still on the branches. I stopped and stood there coming and going.
The coffee shop has an back entrance, facing the trail. I tried it, and it was open. I went across the street and got my bag out of the car, and came back.
The coffee was very good, and the walls and tables were all painted in interesting, abstract and colorful ways. They close at 2pm on Saturdays, and after I got my coffee, I asked one of the two baristas working to let me know when it was getting close to closing time.
It was a good place to write, and after the walk my mind was clear. I wrote this one, and part of another one that I’ll finish tomorrow.
An older woman came in with her son, and sat at the table next to me. Her son left after she was seated. We had a pleasant conversation about tea, and coffee, and the sun that was out today.
She asked me where I’d come from, and I told her I had been walking on the trail. She said that was where her son was, walking the dog, and that he would come back for her before closing.
She saw my journal, and said it was a good day for reading. I told her I was writing, and she said that it was a good day for that, too.
I asked her if I could get her a lid for her tea, and she said yes. I gave her a couple of napkins, too, and when she said her tea had cooled enough, she asked me to put the lid on it for her.
The barista let me know that it was five till two, so I stopped writing the other poem, and copied this one onto the long yellow note that they had out for people to use.
When I had finished writing, I packed up my stuff, and I told the woman that I had enjoyed her company, and that it would be fun to see her there again. She smiled, agreed, and wished me a very beautiful day. I happily wished her one, too.
The barista was putting up the closed sign, and locking the rear door that faces the trail. I walked back there, handed her the copy, and told her I enjoyed being there very much and that I am looking forward to coming back again.
It was a pretty good extended moment - maybe a couple of hours - and one of the best I’ve had in some time.