the icy rain plummeted,
like blades of water cutting my skin,
swiftly, i open the front door,
where warmth and only all things good would lie beyond.
escaping from my cold worries, frigid anxiety
a pleasant waft of espresso,
colorful, sharp jazz,
The pianist's fingers flying across the keyboard; grace, elegance, passion
I acquiesced to a sturdy chair,
and selected a well worn book from the shelf.
hidden away from the bustling streets,
a lightly lit, muted red carpeted place,
heated by a blazing fireplace
with little plants and cactuses strung all around,
with a pleasant waft of espresso,
animated by an silent less whisper
of colorful, sharp jazz
lll• • • • • lll
The Wisteria Cafe
YOU ARE READING
Lux Brumalis
Poetry{a very brief description, shall I say.} ~a miscellany of poems and words. disclaimer: none of these photos are mine and belong to their rightful owners unless specified.
