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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required A chilly, wet, spring day when the icy mud melts just enough to soak your socks before you've even gotten to the car, And all you can think about is getting to the cafe. There's coffee there. Everyone goes to the cafe on slushy mornings, When the sun shines but wind frosts the eyebrows. Today, it's so bad I wait outside the coffee shop, Imagining the various flavors of warmth Rivers and tributaries of delicious comfort That steam my nostrils as customers hustle back to their cars, Roasted beans tempt even winter's grip, daring her not to thaw. Ah, to gaze through that glass, where each order is taken, Where a few modest coins give so much joy... And then, I pass through the doors as the line lurches forward. Chatter and laughter create summer inside Like fireworks between flirts and a carnival of cacophony Humanity's warmth, deeper than the coffee in which it takes root. Soon, I too have my name in the queue, And my dream of warmth unnumbs my icy toes. As my name is called, I carefully caress my beloved drink betwixt my palms, Ceremoniously seasoning it with cocoa comforts and frothy cream. I guard this small joy, Bravely setting foot forth, My joy apt, and sublime. All too briefly enjoyed. How fleeting I remember When struck by the tragedy of ice That stole my coffee, Frosted my feet, And dunked me frigid into a muddy puddle just deep enough to breach my collar. How I grieved as life-giving brown sparkled briefly against dawn's daylight Freed of it's paper-cup prison Splashing hot pain across my face even as winter soaked my back. I remembered the cafe's smells, and laughter, and blissful exuberance That too briefly I enjoyed Too focused on temptation's fate, a burned tongue, and warmed belly, And I grieved her loss as she sprinkled amongst the snow and earth, No longer mine, And gone forever, save for a few drops' aroma That yet wafted my empty cup.
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