The Regular
Every day is Monday now
but far less challenging
than any other Monday, ever.
His morning coffee is
brewed by total strangers,
all of whom he loves dearly.
No one asks him anything;
they only smile and nod
as he shuffles by, nodding.
He can’t recall their names
and he’s fairly certain
that he’s anonymous, too.
He’s glad to be at home.
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dVerse Poets Pub
Tuesday Poetics Challenge
~ At The Restaurant ~
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Scrambled, Not Fried 
welcome MR A Non a mouse. great poem
Insightful, yet sad. The protagonist prefers being unplugged, unconnected. People who hang out at pubs and cafes usually are looking for socialization and a sense of belonging.
Finding home in anonymity. Just going about his routine, without any interruption. It’s strange how some places we visit regularly become home even though we don’t know anybody there. Really nice poem.
Well done, and I like the image you chose to go with it 🙂
Sometimes I think we have to lose most of our marbles to fit in with this society.
You’ve created a scene and a person most of us can recognize. It’s good he has a place to go to and a routine, even if they remain strangers.
When you become a regular, you may recognize everyone but it is questionable if they all remember us, as the consumer, and if they really care.
You always put a sly smile on my face Ron… 😏 fine write my brother!
The smiles and nots surely makes him feel one of the crowd.
Happy Thursday Ron
Much💖love
I love the way you have bound the regular to his favourite haunt despite his experience of change.