One more cup of joe,
a jolt of java,
a triple grande,
to unbolt me from this place
where I sag every day at lunch,
jacaranda blooms
purpling in the spring,
drifting like snow in the fall.
This place of continuous stillness,
my form carved into its shadows,
my crumbs scarfed up by wrens,
my fifty-five minutes of sky, wind, air,
and a butterfly or two.
 
One more shot of espresso,
a line of caffeine up my nose,
and I'm up, on the move,
back in the office right on time,
revved and ready to go.


This poem first appeared in the Peeking Cat Anthology (October, 2018).
Used here with permission.