Dawning Creations

It’s 6:30 A.M.
The wind is blowing deceivingly
beatific ice crystals around the parking lot.
The chill hits my bones and I recoil.

This little coffee shop is my only refuge.
The lights are a sunny contrast,
to the dark, moonless morning out here.

I step inside and hear the tingle of the bell.
A woman greets me pleasantly and I take my order.
She says she’ll bring me my order and I hide away in the back.

Being here makes me think back to years ago.
I sat in this very coffee shop,
writing as I am now.

I miss the quiet moments like this,
being away from all the fast-paced
mundane repetition of the day.

This little space is mine to preoccupy
and no one can interrupt or implore
me to do anything.

But I’m not in my head, either.
I’m listening to all the conversations transpire.
The tingling of the bell
and the sweeping of the door opening and closing.
Coffee is brewing and mine is warm and delectable.

I enjoy this.
I look at my watch
and am saddened that it’s time leave my little booth.

I begin to walk out when I feel a buzzing in my pocket.
I check my phone.
I can stay home today.