snow on the street cafe seats

 snow on the street cafe seats

there are many empty chairs

on this pavement lifted from time

from a winter of snow upon this seats

as the trees stand idly by and the lamps 

well they just stand idly by

the buildings are elegant and grand

windowed in a stasis of glance 

the wet streets own the reflections 

of the pale lip’s efforts

the tables are spaced out

chairs unmistakenly snowed

unreservedly

not a soul but a ghost in passing

for time is not passing

for it is a photograph 

stayed in black and white

of no cold comfort or invitation

to linger no longer than the time

missing from this scene 

the trees are limb crankled 

snow in the elbows and scapula

of collars turned up against any realisation 

that no thought lingers in this orphanage 

of foundling corners and plazas

for we are at the solstice of no return

the conversations of the wandered

suspended and never to fall like this snow

never to reach the ears of the departed 

stopped for a moment 

in this photo all your cold anxieties

and hope for spring’s return 

summer’s hot hubbub in coloured

by cravats and berets

all hidden in code in this photograph

that the cameraman has mislaid

here upon this page of turning 

yesterday into tomorrow’s hope

the streets so clean(ed)

by the someone’s who are missing

missing from this scene 

so wet in this thawing

those trees have seen it all before

the liaisons under the new leaves 

virginal green

now don’t make a scene

there’s a room there for us

dawn or dusk 

it’s not easy to say

is it

don’t you think

i don’t even know if i was there with you

well i was

wasn’t i?