Coffee Steaming in the Morning...
How quiet the morning is
fog swirling through the trees
gray light settles around me
the fresh smell of morning
tickles my nose
as I take in a deep breath
and sigh.
Another day beginning
I long to sit in the quiet
the fog kissing my face
the birds huddling in the cold
the cats sitting on
the cement sidewalk
fur puffed,
eyes closed against the cool morning.
A cup of coffee in my hand
and time…
Drinking in the peace
the solitude
the quiet beauty
of the moment.
That moment before
time wakes
and chaos breaks
the silence.
Beauty fades
with the fog
and life intrudes.
Another day
another dollar
bends my back
with it’s weight.
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2 comments:
I wonder how the words of Coffee Steaming in the Morning... would be looking at the perspective of things today. Just thinking, wondering.
It has a whole new meaning now...
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