street talk on a hard bench

We’re sitting, praying at the pews to get out of the cold

On our knees

Hands clasped tightly around that pearl necklace

Mother may I? He asks sheepishly

Of course you may, you get everything you want

When you’re ready to pray

He wraps his arms around her

She holds him tightly against her chest

He hears her heart beating

That calm rhythm always soothing

He glances over at the girl in the corner


Almost giving up the ghost

When I’m


Filling my cup

With the dark roast

Swirling cream to mix galaxies

You smile when I tell you it’s delicious


I tell you it’s delicious, every time I smile

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Create a website or blog at

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: