I Miss, No. 2

Laptop resting
Next to beverage and biscuit
On coffee shop
Table top

Customers eyes passing
Through text and tome
By themselves
At various book shelves

I am sitting
At my pulpit and post
To write what I privately spy
As patrons browse and buy


I get it: this poem’s title isn’t parallel to the first one in this series. Rules are meant to be broken, right?

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