We Gather to Write
Waves crashing in below us and jovial repartee
from the ones below us in the small café.
The waiter interrupts us. We order coffee, tea,
or jugo de naranja, but, dedicated, we
return to our writing. It’s what we’ve gathered for,
here where it is quiet, up on the second floor.
Leather covered tables, and equipales, too––
tablecloths of orange, yellow, purple, green and blue
as though they had instructions to make use of every hue.
These vivid pigments seep into all we write and do.
Children leap through tide breaks, walkers gather shells.
Swimmers move hand over hand, out beyond the swells.
But we above just write of it, revealing how we love it
as though we were a part of it instead of here above it.
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 
Interesting perspective Judy. I can relate, as I put in the time to corral my stories, looking backward as I hurl into the future.
LikeLike
We really are on the second floor of a beach palapa restaurant. We take 1/2 hour to write, then share what we’ve written or something else we’ve written. This poem was written this morning during that time. A lovely feeling to be in a room where everyone else is writing as well. And in a beautiful setting.
LikeLike
There is a certain enjoyment in watching the activities of others and writing about them! You’ve captured this enjoyment well!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love being an observer…
LikeLiked by 1 person
ah, how I would love to be there with you, writing above that view. I would choose a tablecloth of blue. (Oh! look a rhyme from me, too).
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ha.. The tablecloths were actually piled on a table, not yet spread on the equipale tables, and they were checked ones with all the colors in them, but you know… poetic license??? It was a lovely place to write.
LikeLike
I Iove to be a lofty observer of life. Thanks for another eye view.
LikeLiked by 1 person