A Sultry Sad Afternoon

I remember that every day tram stop,

the rusty overhead wires, caressed lovingly by twigs, telling a story,

a story of yesteryears,

the broken benches contemplating the shimmery tracks,

the tracks contemplating the last sound of wheels on it.

I remember the footpath, cobblestoned,

invisible homes for the homeless,

existential bricks and mortar homes on their backs,

puddles from last night's rain stagnant,

reflections of trees, skyscrapers, blue sky, all visible,

footsteps splashing through them,

disturbed, rippled images.

I remember that crossroads with flickering traffic lights,

faces known and unknown, in search of their daily bread,

swimming amongst the crowd, smiling,

we'll meet again tomorrow, same place, same time.

I remember that little sidewalk cafe, outdoor seating,

the ever-smiling eyes on the infinitesimally lined face welcoming me,

for a cup of coffee and pretzels and croissants,

as I sat next to freshly decorated boxes of flowers,

artwork from the renaissance era on the walls,

decorated french windows,

transporting me back centuries, somewhere,

and as I sipped through that coffee, the sepia lights danced,

the leaves above rustled, the winds cautioned about a cold winter,

some street musicians played an amazing tune, hidden.

Memories, moments, they remain etched in your minds forever,

in a sultry, sad afternoon, stuck at home,

they manage to somehow uplift your mood for the better.

***