Morning Coffee



I top my espresso

with a shot of frothy oat's milk,

getting the right kind of swirl, which I liken to a summer leaf (although no one but me has seen the resemblance), then contemplate the wind in the naked branches

of the birch tree outside the window, and I have to think of your limbs and my limbs entwined last night into the wee hours of the morning, and I know that spring is right around the corner,

another spring with you, my love,

and I have to smile

to myself, not at the vividness

of my imagination when it comes

to the subtleties of barista art,

but simply because I know you can't stop time and we are, you and me, caught in this lovely maelstrom, together,

sweetly deliciously caught, and this is the real high, the buzz, the utter blessedness that fills me as I close my eyes

and take a sip.


"Morning Coffee" by Francis Fernades. Photo Credit: Francis Fernades.


Francis Fernandes grew up in Canada. He studied in Montréal and has a degree in Mathematics. He currently lives in Germany, where he writes and teaches.



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