Impressions: Coffee Shop as Break Ends

I've a habit of scribbling down lines wherever I am, trying to capture what it is I'm sensing and feeling, my impression of the moment. This was written in an airport, awaiting my plane home.

Brown couches beige floor

Simmer sounds and earthy smell

Strings like windchimes sweep away

Sweet dark voice weaving a spell.

Flowing traffic human feet

Though there’s neither door nor wall

Somehow seems a shadow play

Not a bustling busy hall.

Soon it’s back to every day

Wistful smile, whispered thought

Float on memory moments more

Savor coffee while it’s hot.

R de E, 1/6/15