Coffee
in the northern night
under the nearly frozen palm trees
the furtive cat glimpsed something among the plants
now he's on a silent ambush
ready to feed on its careless prey
on the other side of this cold town
surely someone at the window
sees amazed that the wind juggles
with an empty supermarket bag
this night will also pass
and tomorrow morning
when i'm looking at the sun
shyly drying the lawn grass
I know the steam coming out of the coffee cup
it will fog up the lenses of my glasses.
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