here i sit where they know my name,
and for a brief moment
i am me
in a world i cannot explain.
baristas move
like waves kissing the shore.
the wise oak stands near,
roots set so deep.
the murmur pulses—
relationships forging,
solitude held as holy ground.
outside, the world divides,
but here, strangers sit side by side.
and for a brief moment —
i am visible without explanation,
communion without obligation,
rhythm without intrusion.
my companion
is the quiet symphony
that holds me
without condemnation.
© 2026 Corvalya