She Has a Special Magic

she has a special magic or so it seems to me in the early morning when i rise i process the beans in the grinder a short succession of tasks the coffee is brewing aroma of her hint of cinnamon fills the kitchen as i wait i look out the window dawn has erased all the darkened shadows the flowers line the property's end all are ready for the day i speak their language, tell them to be patient let me take her coffee and a pastry she will be with you shortly it is Saturday and your day with her tomorrow is Sunday and i am whisking her away on a picnic she does this to me you know everything she touches becomes family we share conversations about her the coffee pot is in its last gurgles remember, cream, one lump i hear apple turnover, warmed, buttered the tray is now filled and ready pushing me to a faster pace i turn to the coffee pot, thank you be right back for mine as i disappear into the hallway there is a last gurgle, you're welcome she has a special magic, everything she touches becomes family to me 3/3/19 Kismet