Quiet Mornings start
with a double shot of creamy
cinnamon colored espresso,
dribbling out of my
old brass Pavoni.
On the road, quiet guitar arpeggios
accompany a simple melody on
solo violin. Traffic is light Harbor heading
over the hill toward Bastanchury.
The sky is cool cloudy remembering
past rains and the Fall to come.
The school playground is silent and spacious.
I walk from my class to the office while a pair of birds
fly in tandem from classrooms to the playground.
Slowly the momentum builds and children begin to appear.
The moment passes for today.
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