(I dredged this piece up from an old prose journal entry, hacked at least half of it away, and versified the remnants for this week’s Writer’s Pantry. Still needs work, but…)
Coffee With Dawn
He activates the pickup’s wipers,
adjusts and readjusts their swipe
to clear the fog he drives through,
wishing he could clear his own.
He sings to the wipers’ rhythms.
Composed, at last, he arrives
and steps out into his favorite
bookstore’s pre-dawn café,
his early-morning Mecca.
Today the place is his alone.
The friendly gang of geezers
usually there to greet him
hasn’t yet arrived.
He’s happy to sit, alone
with only his favorite journal,
basking in the kind ministrations
of the smiling sunrise barista.
Poets And Storytellers United
Writers’ Pantry #55