A Poem With Coffee

Wrote this at Starbucks while waiting for a friend. I did not have coffee. But I should have.

The wind squeezes hands cold

So that it's hard to write

And so coffee warms that and more

To stir imaginations light

A coffee shop writing

Churned by warmth

And sweet scented drugs' delight

Where people sit and talk

About the greatest parts of themselves

And the smallest things in the world

While the outside provides the beating rhythm

Of pouring rain

A rainbow struggles to break through

Like the coffee smoke in the cold

So I drink it in

Drink it in

Drink in both

Reviews

[Wandering Violet]

I like this short piece, it makes me feel that I'm observing the coffee shop from across the road - you described it very well.