A SCENT OF COFFEE - by Sandra Fowler

A  SCENT  OF  COFFEE  by Sandra Fowler The moon has interlocked the night in glass. Trees are no more than dark designs on grass. The mood of music opens like a flower. A scent of coffee validates the hour. One wonders how two shadows can embrace. For after all, time leaves so little space. Only the smallest whisper of a word, Makes old friends know emotion has been heard. The landscape is a poem memorized, A fey tune only captured by still eyes. The light diversified by windowpanes Diminishes, it may not come again.