This Life Here Now

Breakfast out, rich, and simple enough to have been delivered by the gods.

Yolks firm yet languidly come hither.

A good book to go with the good food.

A lovely man beside me, writing words in a notebook and reading them quietly to himself within intensity and patience.

Me wishing him “May the words be with you” as he left.

A young father, with a delightful, towheaded toddler, who always seem to be at this café whenever I am here alone.

Watching this little one live in a world where he knows he is loved.

Experiencing it as a peace bomb I disperse over the memories of the sadder portions of my own childhood.

The bus driver noticing my Frida bag as I step off the bus.

Our conversation about seeing her paintings in person.

Our nod to Diego.

The man on the bus with the dog who only gets angry at unkind people.

A woman and her grown daughter and her baby daughter all with the same eyes standing in their front yard as I walk by.

The way the two women smile at me when I tell them them their eyes let me know they are related.

The baby’s beautiful intelligent eyes swallowing everything she sees.

Her smiling at me as I talk to her.

A text conversation on the bus with a good friend. The one I drank orange wine with last night.

Remembering telling the bartender how lovely it would taste with pomegranate and her gift of two small glasses filled with the same orange wine mixed with pomegranate liqueur. Ambrosia.

Feeling appreciation for the conversations I have with this friend that are silly and deep.

Diana Krall and Louis Armstrong singing through the speakers at the cafe.

Feeling rich with all the beauty and the small pains in this life that tell me I’m alive.

Riding home as the solo passenger on the bus.

Carrying two bags of new fall clothes purchased at my favorite shop.

Smiling at the memory of the card reading I did for the owner.

A smaller bag filled with mushrooms, delicata squash, and baby tomatoes to use for my dinner.

A long loving conversation on the phone with my son as the bus brings me home.

Cinse Bonino
2024