Maybe I have too much trust in people
but there is something comforting about the presence of strangers,
seeing other people sipping coffee across the room as I pick up my own cup and do the same;
there’s something relaxing about seeing a man in a suit just like the one my dad wears to work every day,
holding a briefcase, thinking of his daughter--
there’s something relaxing
about seeing a woman typing away as I sit across from her composing words of my own,
listening to an old Beatle’s song knowing that if I were to play it aloud in this room people might sing it in their heads along with me..
I am content because they too have seen the triumphant skyscrapers outside
and heard the rumble of the drums coming from Mont Royal--
they too are tasting this bitter coffee,
are trying to avoid lengthy eye contact with the strangers who just walked in from the cold--
they too are silently sitting here with someone they miss in mind
I know these strangers
have thought about their moms today
have considered they might fail
have contemplated the meaning of it all
have gotten lost on a runaway train of thought
(artist Jung-Yeon Min)
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