Country Cafe

Robert Flournoy


Copyright 2017 by Robert Flournoy



 Drove down to a little country cafe this morning with a friend 10 years my senior, a gentle soul who set a needed mood. A cool sunny blustery Autumn morning with leaves swirling,wild eyed horses running in pastures with rolls of fresh hay snuggled between split rail fences and clear running brooks and rills. 10 miles later we arrived in a dirt parking lot which was full of old trucks, and a couple of tractors. Greeted inside by a lady who called us darlin', and seated by a wood burning stove with the season's first embers still glowing from their early dawn lighting. Soft old time country music in the back ground, sweet fiddles with smells of coffee and bacon, the tinkling of children's laughter, loved ones seated at large tables to accommodate three generations. A family saying grace in a corner with large windows on either side, a blond child's golden hair dappled by moving sun beams filtered by sugar maples that brushed the glass, the slow dance of its patient light patterns keeping time with the soft voice of the grand father's prayer. Something from long ago, buried too long, made me smile. It was a fine breakfast.

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