in a coffee shop.
One on crutches, with bandages on her knee.
The other brings a couple of frappuccinos
to a table between two easy chairs at Starbucks.
and the patched-up woman
her crutches now leaning against the wall,
extends a hand,
almost precisely half way
and the other takes it,
they both smile,
faces tilted back
just far enough to catch the intense summer sunshine,
and they feel each other so clearly
that I am blinded into joy.
Not as much for them
humanity’s best stuff
happens in coffee shops,
and thus probably,