At the end of the day
I’m still dreaming of having a cafe
-vintage and small
Not in big city, not busy at all
Maybe in my small town—slow and quiet
Street where my kind neighbors meet
Not for money, not for fame
But for slow mornings— peace in frame
Greet friendly faces every day
And share cute giggle along the way
Reading my old books left on the shelf
And feel a little more of myself
A place to rest— a slower pace
Sensing the the world—still a kind place
T.