Morning Coffee
Morning Coffee
Steam rises
like thoughts
not yet spoken—
The cup warms my hands,
the world still sleeping
outside my window.
In this quiet hour,
I am both
everywhere
and nowhere.
The first sip
is always
a promise. Steam rises
like thoughts
not yet spoken—
The cup warms my hands,
the world still sleeping
outside my window.
In this quiet hour,
I am both
everywhere
and nowhere.
The first sip
is always
a promise.