Busker

I enter,

The stench of stale bread and coffee

creak out from inside the cubicles.

The gray noise fills the air.

I hear keyboards clicking.

The sound of sighing,

slight mumbling, and mugs of

coffee being picked up and

placed down. 

But one day I heard something new.

It was the harmonious humming 

of a man outside on his harmonica.

Collecting coins from a coffee cup.

The music blew through the 

monotonous noises of everyday life.

His mellow and melodic mystique 

brought a mysterious,

yet, welcomed sensation.

And I couldn’t help but admire 

his performance.