Mon café

It was winter, with rain clouds inside
Me, hovering over me,
I gave you a call

We met, we talked, and we saw each other
Over coffee…deep and dark, my coffee.
We sipped, we spoke, we smoked
Under the melting sun, in the darkening city,
I listened to your hopes, your desires
Shared your taste in movie and music.
The hours called us for another coffee
We talked, we laughed, remained silent
Sometimes with reason, sometimes without one
Over coffee…deep and dark, my coffee.
You listened to my French, my broken Spanish
Gave ears to my wings, my desires
Hours flew, seasons flew, making the way
For a song of the next December.

- The Shepherdess