The Snowflake Chronicles

Coffee on Sunday Morning

An early rising
street lights scatter the darkness
in my neighborhood.

Morning coffee brewed
I open the window blinds
waiting for first light.

Pouring a hot cup
I take a sip and then walk
to the front door, open it.

I stand there watching
as street lights illuminate
Sunrise Avenue.

I say a prayer
giving thanks for the new day
a new week begins.

Sip by sip I watch
dawn illuminate the sky
turn charcoal clouds pink.

I watch a pigeon
fly from tree to roof and then
land in front of me.