At the Café

The door was locked.
The Health Officer was walking up and down the middle of the road.

Where the two pillows met there was a narrow gap.
It was open, just a chink.
I could see light coming through it.

I managed to widen it with my fingers and squeeze into the gap.

At first, nothing.
Then, with a rush, I was inside one of the apartments upstairs from the café.

The whole operation was completely illegal and surprisingly popular.

There was music, at present on low.
Not out of consideration for the neighbours.
They didn’t mind.
The Health Officer was still on the prowl outside.

People talked and drank coffee and listened.
And did all the things that were normal for a café of that time.

They made plans to extend their small society
by taking on a larger venue.

I thought of you, back in bed,
and the plans we had
and the promises I’d made.

I felt a bit guilty
but I just wanted to stay a little longer.
To see.

Perhaps there was a building somewhere
where we could do the things that were important,

that made me want to stay late in the evening
and get up early in the morning and go to work.