Wednesday mornings…

It’s Wednesday morning and they’re here

sitting together like they’ve known each other

since childhood – unable to impress one another,

unable to care less, unable to enjoy like they once did

so they find peace in routines, every Tuesday,

same table and chairs – even sitting in the same

seats (like the man in the blue baseball cap facing

the glare of the sun, squinting his wrinkles

into even more, but refusing to shift his chair

and the others refuse to ask him again), and

the coffee sits until cool enough and the cream

forms a film and each cup has a stirrer but

no one seems to stir), and they always clean up

after themselves… always.