"Coffee Break"
a poem by G.E. Nordell

I hate parks in the city
with their closely-mowed lawns
and concrete paths and diagonal parking
and trash-cans overflowing

one of the hidden pleasures
of my security patrol job
is the first break of the morning
about 8:30, under the bluffs

the sun creeps over the blufftop
silent wisps of mist rise from the brush
to the gleaming white tassels
of the pampas grass

rabbits rustle in the weeds
doves scoot out on the road
the other birds chirp and caw and trill
a little flock flits from stem to stem

the sun is warm on my face
no human is in sight
civilization a distant background murmur

the coffee in the Thermos cup
steams in the cold air
its aroma signifies existence



Gary Edward Nordell 1996, all rights reserved

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