At Anker Coffee & Cake Shop

I sit at the window facing
Wipplinger Street
The tobacco man cleans
His shop windows –
Air pollution.
A woman rushes past
With a knowing smile.
On the nearby pavement
A pretty brunette talks to
A silver-haired man
Young people pass: earphones
And knapsacks.
The pretty brunette smokes
Already another cigarette
Expressive eyes
Southern looks.
A dog-walking woman
Shops are cleaned out
Change of ownership.
Mrs Ira is late this morn’.
Pietrowski’s delivery bike
A Fiaker caleche passes
In great hurry
Busses passing silently
Battery operated
The lorries and trucks do
Not yet.
Where is Mrs Ira?
Great to have Anker coffee
And cake shop here.
Ah! My phone. I have to go.


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