Freedom

Does it ring? Maybe later in life
right inside deep in the inner
ear where you know this
is a very personal journey
all a-buzz at the late stages
and before? before that?
I don't know. Voices mumbling
in coffee shops between
the clinking of forks and
hissing of Gaggia machines
the rustling of old news in print
and the breaking of oil in the bean
as it's ground up yes into dust
and the air is filled with that
evocative revolutionary odor
and rumors of fire at the knees
money changing hands and more
voices who know what everyone
really wants their simple needs
their double shots and single
shot lattés hardly ringing out
perhaps a gentle singing in the heart
that's all it is and children
counting out the syllables with care
and neglectful supervision and
lines lines of people waiting
in that new morning smiling
or not all depending which side
of the bed they were on when
they left