Don't fence me in...

Porter had the right of it..
The cafe by the sea has become my haven
hidden away from reality, hot tea and the world at my fingertips.
A sea of faces accompanied by greetings, acquaintances that stay inside this sphere of plastic and wooden chairs.
Murmur of voices some raised to cacophonic heights during the day.
At night the sound of wooden chips slammed against the backgammon board,
shuffling of newspapers-replaced by the creaking of boats against the waves.
Safe..a place to run to-when I have no place to run.
Wandering nomad I called myself. I couldn't have been more accurate...
At times, I'm walking a thin line
j'ai besoin un gros calin but alas not just from anybody!