Morning Cup of Coffee

Another cup of coffee

sits in front of me

on the table

with its rich, dark, silky

look drawing

me in again,

the steam rolling off

like the call of

sirens to sailors,

and the taste like

nostalgia in embrace

with a good day ahead,

the dark brew reflecting a smile

instead of the murky

concoctions of sugars and cream,

and I know you can’t see peace

but for a moment

–just that tiny,

ever lingering


in the morning–

I can taste it here

in the cup that

sits in front of me

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