“What’s in a Name” was inspired by my every-morning writing times (until Covid hit) at our local Starbucks. Many of the same customers came every day around the same time, and I got to know them as though we all lived in the same small town. This gentleman was one of those regulars.
He didn’t come to Starbucks
for coffee yesterday or today
I listen for the tap-tap of his cane
The breath that sighs from the easy chair
next to mine as he sinks into it every morning
When I drag out my mental scrapbook
from a summer in Osaka to manage
Konnichi-wa or Ohayo Gozaimasu
He tries simple English
like the haiku he grew up with
Silent words sometimes shape our lips
His scowl when someone beats me to my chair
My smile at his vigilance
Mostly we rely on fingers
A tap on his shoulder before
I hand him a piece of chocolate
Curl of his pointer when his voice fails
and I lean in for his Thank you
A not-to-worry wave when he shuffles
to the restroom
I like this limited relationship
The almost romance of it
The quiet between us and the mystique
I worry and want to call him
now that I’ve finished my refill
But realize I don’t even know his name
