Coffee Cups

In the morning the steam from my
Coffee makes a rainbow on the glass
Pane behind the kitchen counter
Where it sings and dew drops form
After the storm of my night.
My emotions that pass like clouds
In dreams replacing one scene with
Another with no respect to time, logic.
The taste of the coffee is bitter; the
Sun rises over the mug warming my
Fingertips and I smile in the
Ritual of a new day.

Author: Erica V.

Always seriously joking and rambunctiously soft-spoken.

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