John Margolis Follow

Blue Goose Cafe
© 2006 John Margolis, Don Rosler

the Blue Goose Cafe has a booth by the window
beyond the coat rack and the rotary phone
a young man takes coffee, fades into the woodwork
in the golden hours, nine o’clock till noon

he takes out his “Times”, and the “Tiller and Toiler”
a notebook that he tapes some articles in
the lunch rush begins but he’s welcome to stay
late mornings at the Blue Goose cafe

he seems slightly shy as the waitress walks by
though he knows her by name
watching people rush off, he looks kind of lost
but he fits in, in some strange way

he’ll drink like a fish from a picture post card
or cradle a book like a small fragile bird
the cover’s a photo of Edward R. Murrow
he looks out the window, his eyes miles away
late mornings at the Blue Goose cafe

a safe heaven here for shedding a tear
or a small contemplative prayer
oh to feel lost inside, yet so alive
and the world waiting out there

here in my office, I glance back at this scene
a young man writing in his book of dreams
and now I wonder what he‘d think of me
thirty years later from across the street,
here with my face pressed up against this window pane
staring out at the Blue Goose cafe

this notebook I open is so many years old
the last line I wrote was “these hours are pure gold”
the lunch rush begins but I’m welcome to stay
late mornings at the Blue Goose café

(The Tiller and Toiler is an extant newspaper in Larned, Kansas)