she has a special magic 

or so it seems to me

in the early morning when i rise

i process the beans in the grinder

a short succession of tasks

and the coffee is brewing

the aroma of her hint of cinnamon

fills the kitchen

as i wait i look out the window

dawn has erased all the darkened shadows 

the flowers line the property's end

all are ready for the day

i speak their language, tell them to be patient

let me take her coffee and a pastry

she will be with you shortly

it is Saturday and your day with her

tomorrow is Sunday and i am whisking

her away on a picnic

she does this to me you know

everything she touches becomes family

we share conversations about her

the coffee pot is in its last gurgle

remember, cream, one lump i hear

apple turn over, warmed, buttered

the tray is now filled and ready

i turn to the coffee pot, thank you

be right back for mine

there is a last gurgle, you're welcome

she has a special magic, everything she touches

3/3/19