dinner-time cafe, a city

reflections shimmer
on grey-green cafe walls
monday fall afternoon
the world is suddenly fresh (on bloor),
everything new and all so stale
this place i've been to a million times before
but don't visit often enough
slow down, i tell myself,
drink more water
breathe through your gills
take in the sunshine
it's golden just this minute and
gracing on everybody's hair
and suddenly everyone on bloor is so alive
even the pigeons and the bums are beautiful
everything feels like
spring in the falltime or
fall in the springtime,
a city far (and fallen) from grace
but a whole day's sunlight
compressed
into twenty minutes outside my window.