Coffee Before Hello

Ms. Haiku

A point of time is a story
that stops and starts,
and next, is rewritten.

A locked door without a coffee smell:
I look and see staff conversing within
shades of semi-darkness behind the coffee bar.

I will be kind if he door is unlocked,
and I check my watch again.
Open doors are a blessing,
and I give this door a few
minutes reversed grace.
I stand, and wait, wanting to be
a still life painting
of a coffee break.

Across the street the church tower strikes seven. Smoke rises scattering nimbly, undeterred by this winter morning rain. The smoke rises above the remaining snow stuck to the roof.

Red lights of streetlamps cut the fog. Red lights shining from the back of cars cut the fog. A red coca-cola truck turns left.

A movement towards me
out of the shades of semi-darkness.
I see more inside lights turn on,
and I heard a door unlock.

justam

I like your coffee stories. :thumbup:

Ms. Haiku

justam wrote:

I like your coffee stories. :thumbup:

Thanks, justam! I'm starting to get back into the poetry groove.

justam

That's good!