What would it take
To get a seat in the cafe
In Williamsburg
Off 6th
Sunday
As the sunlight
Glistens I’m off
Frozen streets
Keeping an eye
For an opening
As the groups of people
Come and go
Bustle to and fro
A seat is precious on a Sunday
At best I can reminisce at how
We once had a seat at the cafe
On an easy Wednesday
But today now a seat was open
Not an empty chair
The sun continues to flow in the windows
Like streams of gold thistle
Through the trashed Christmas trees
Not a seat to be had today
So seats are to be envied
On a brisk Sunday in the cafe
On 6th Street
A Cup of Songwriting 