coffee shop

The older man – deaf and dumb,
Hat pulled down low, slightly and awkwardly
It covers his face.
He sits in his chair – low and limp.
His eyes break from the frothy-filled in-house cup as he glances at the man sharing his table.

He doesn’t notice my gaze.

The coffee shop filled with treats has become stuffy with students marching in and out of it.
They eat and drink,
And talk about everything,
From the 15 different things they are planning on doing this weekend to how they wish they had read this or that book,
Yet, it remains quiet enough to hear the old man bark and see his friend give him a hand.
Handing out words with symbols.
Handing out love with words.