A Coffee Before Work

He was early in the city that day
And so decided to seek out a cafe
Of which he was only vaguely aware:
He found it and was pleasantly surprised
At the interior decor-
Whenever he'd passed it in the car
The exterior- a fairly modern building-
Had always struck him as rather plain
And he had always imagined it
As some sort of
Worn out greasy spoon:
It wasn't.
  He bought a coffee- it was brought to his table
And he signed into the WiFi.
  The place was moderately busy- in one corner sat two ladies
Discussing Brexit. 
  He scrolled through his Facebook feed whilst sipping
Coffee.
  The connection was slow.
  He put down his phone
And looked outside.
  There was a paved area with seating
And, opposite, stood a building
Of rather brutalist design.
  Inside, people were sat at round tables, talking
And on a shelf, various items:
Hats, scarves and candles were displayed.
Whilst on one wall, prints and drawings hung.
He considered that he would
probably return
And in the meantime
As the caffeine kicked in
He felt inspired to put thoughts into words.
  So it was, that in the hour before work
He sat writing poetry
In a cafe he had never
previously visited.

MDC