hearts of our youth

this chair in the coffee bar is so cold
next to the window it always avoids the old
who sip short lives away
perhaps spending their final day

scrutinizing through the glass, made opaque
by dirt, that disconnects this wake
from the world in a frame
passing by with no name

yet a child stops, exhaling plumes of breath
contrasting vitality with this cafe death
looks, through unfocused eyes
into the heaving void beyond, and cries

stay free, in the joy of unbounded infancy
avoid the craving for caffeinated necromancy
where is your mother’s hand
to guide you, help you understand

a cold wind of the past
enters with an opening door, at last
food for miserable decaying souls
of limited but well conceived goals

this chair in the coffee bar is so cold
chilled by the vampires that are the old
no-one will acknowledge the truth
we are but the digested hearts of our youth

©2009 Hey Hey