Posted in Poems

Morning coffee

The noise of the grass cutter.
A quiet breakfast is out.
The noise gets louder.
I cringe as I drink my coffee.

Then I get a whiff so soothing.
The smell of freshly cut grass.
The smell of coffee; its taste.
The noise fades, I enjoy my coffee.

By C.E. Pereira
(30-4-2022)

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