Sundays Spent



Inside the stately coffee shop
The cool of breeze seeps in
Between the doors pulled open
And brushes o'r your chin.

Strangers note the time change
With the wrinkles on their mind
That creep out through their deep blue eyes
Upon sidewalks you might find.

The stream sweetens simple scenery
Their chats mix a mellow melt
Her smile sings of surrender
While his touch is barely felt.

Her cup pours milky mousse as such
Tasting the whites of pure
And swallows glancing all around
Reveals the Sunday cure.

CNK


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