The old guys come, chairs fill up with them
waiting for something to happen,
admiring each other’s cars and bikes,
shaking their heads at the occasional trike
In long white hair and earrings they sit
among their children who argue
on smartphones about stupid shit,
told with the rolling of eyes
The guys share stories about nothing in particular,
leaning in to hear them over the rumble,
a laugh and a latte and then it’s over,
they move out, great rolling thunder,
surprised by their own speed
©Daniel von der Embse
writing in airplanes 