Glasses

Opening door of the coffee shop
powerful aroma, full in the face
one more deep breath

I look for him, tabled near the back
not too secluded, but not out front
and find him, reading

Advancing now, with a growing smile
trying to catch him unaware,
but then he looks up.

The tables have turned
skidding me to a stop —
He’s wearing glasses.

I’ve seen him before
but never like this
and the butterflies spread to match my smile.

The frames soften him,
distracting from, yet focusing toward
the deep clarity of his eyes.

He smiles easily at me
seeing my visibly pleasant surprise
without even realizing the source.

So I sit down across from him,
breathing deep to calm my heart,
and we begin our afternoon.

.

Check out the Notes from the Author page for a little more about this poem.

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