They are older, seated in the corner.
It is warm and amber in the small room.
The busy waiter signals with his
hand — one minute! — and they nod
and return to each other.
Meanwhile, outside, it is windy and salty
and almost wintry. The wooden room
is the lantern of a lighthouse in the night,
or a cabin on a small ship swaying in the
ocean, which is just there, dark and brewing.
But back to the candlelit corner. The two men
in their knit sweaters. They talk about today
and yesterday and about others
and each other. About this and this and this.
The lucky ones!
Laughing softly in the familiar room
of this weathered house on a
dark street where the land ends.
Grant Tudor works as a policy advocate for Protect Democracy in Washington, D.C.
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