the restaurant
was closed. I could see
that by
the sign, the darkness
inside,
the chairs and tables
scattered
and stacked.
the doors locked.
in my mind I could smell
the fresh bread,
the cooked pasta, but
no one was there.
no greeting at the door
like
the old days,
when they knew you.
said welcome, come in,
we're glad to see you
again.
let me take your coat
and hat.
is a window seat okay?
the wind
of autumn slides down my
collar, across
my back,
gives me a chill,
my faced is pressed
against the window
of many closings lately.
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