In Centre Place,
where voices echo against brick and steam,
a young man in glasses
leans forward, pen ready.
Menus curl in his hands,
patrons lift their eyes—
a question, a smile,
the scratch of order on a page.
Around him,
cups clink, chairs scrape,
the lane hums with roasting beans
and the shuffle of passing coats.
He gathers their words
like coins in a till,
steady,
while the city
keeps breathing past the doorway.
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Well written
ReplyDeleteAlmost like a prose
DeleteImagen buena y palabras acertadas. Buena entrada, Roentare!
ReplyDeleteUn saludo.
You caught that moment of decision about what to eat and drink, the anticipation of getting something good. It is all in your photo.
ReplyDeletePerfecto el uso de la profundidad de campo atendiendo a aquello que se desea resaltar sobre todo lo demás .
ReplyDeleteGreat picture and what a beautiful poem I especially love "voices echo against brick and steam" and that whole last stanza is gorgeous The poem is so alive
ReplyDeleteA lovely capture of a candid moment. Thank you for linking up.
ReplyDeleteA very attentive waiter.
ReplyDeleteGood shot :-D
ReplyDeleteMuy buen enfoque, con una prosa poética magnífica.
ReplyDeleteSalutacions, James.
A waiter? Hope he gets the order right. have a great weekend.
ReplyDelete