It's October, @johnjgeddes! And with this poem I imagine you in that cafe seeing the rain outside, watching, smelling, writing. The poet's gaze is so imperious that everything becomes letter, history, memory. In the middle of the table a hot coffee, and a few napkins that will speak of characters who will never know that they were born this day, in the face of so much reality. It's October, poet!
Always the observer of life, I'm afraid - that's the writer's lot :)