Friday poem for coffee lovers: 'Espresso'


A minuscule bird clinging to a twig

is shredding a loop of knotted string

to a fibre-fuzzy mist in its bill,

a haze as soft as cotton wool

with which to line a nest no bigger

than this small cup I lift to my lips

while I wait for you in this little coffee shop

on the avenue, for such is April.

'Espresso', a poem from Colette Bryce's Self-Portrait in the Dark.

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