Imperfect People

Train to Glasgow today
for a rare fix of business.
At an original Italian cafe
in an aptly traditional quarter,
fish teas are served onto modest
tables for a very reasonable price.
The food was good, as always,
while their coffee didn't disappoint.
Imperfect people ate around me;
patrons each finding time out
from some daily toil or eternal
turmoil most likely more real
than otherwise. Autumn sunlight
spilled through large windows
televising afternoon scenes and
actions playing live without end.
From a radio, Bob Marley wailed
"let's get together and feel alright".
Hunger now abated, making ready
for the off, I echoed my host's warm
farewell and echoed his gratitude.
Appearing to meet me at the door,
my own reflection gave confirmation
that I'm not so very different.