old man and the coffee

(apologies to e. h.)

you venture out
into the sea of snow
seeking a grande
coffee. you wish
the boy were with you.
to help you.
to hold your place
in line, while you
fiddled in your
pockets for correct
change, for
crumbled bills.
your hands are cramped.
the wind creases
your face into
a hard squint.
you go with
the current, shuffling
towards the light,
towards the glow
of the sign
through the blowing
snow. you do not
see or care
about the sharks,
the youthful men and
women, beating you
to the door,
you wish the boy were
with you, to
push you along, to
talk to you.
but he is not here.
you have only yourself
to talk with.
you will get this coffee.
you will defeat
this storm. it is
destiny.
your curled hands
will open for what is
rightfully yours.
you wish the boy was
there though in case
you can't.