This morning...

This morning my children were spirited away by a friend in the neighborhood for no good reason other than kindness.  On the way to the grocery store - I know, my exciting life has frozen you in your tracks - I decided to stop and get a bagel and cream cheese at the local bagelry.  After pretending like I might try something different than what I've ordered my entire life at bagel shops, I ordered a cinnamon bagel with plain cream cheese.  Then I sat down to eat quietly and - no joke - read some poetry.

The poetry has been an experiment lately.  I picked up a book at the library and I'm seeing if I like reading poems as much as I enjoy novels.  I am not exactly sure yet, but I'm still reading - so that must mean something.  Some of the poems I can't concentrate on long enough to get to the end of them - my brain has been eaten by small children, you know, and some of them I find to be just plain stupid.  But others have made me stop... and think... and nod my head, which is one of the things I think poetry aims to do. 

So, there I was, reading my poetry at the bagel shop, and I couldn't help but watch this old man across the way.

He had spread himself across two tables with his books, his computer, his earphones, and his coffee mug  - a real mug from home, not a styrofoam cuo.  Also, and most definitely my personal favorite - he had taken off his shoes, and put on his slippers.  Every once in a while he would stand up and have them refill his coffee and then he would go sit back down.

You know what?  Someday I would like to be someone who goes to a bagel shop every morning and brings my slippers. 

I'll just order orange juice instead.

And a cinnamon bagel with cream cheese.