First time, commercial coffee shop
overindulgence, over laden with portfolio,
books, purse, and now cup: underdressed.
Far too few layers for a
shower of cotton *****
sticking to eye-lashes and hair.

Journeying from coffee shop
to bus stop; urban miles away.
piles of melty cotton *****
grab at my inappropriate shoes.
Too much milk and water
turn me off to Christmas in a cup

so I stick out my tongue
and allow my taste buds a play date with Jack Frost instead.

A lifetime away
a new place with new playmates.
This time leaves and stinky berries
push me on to my destination.
A new coffee shop with bells on the door
boasts bashfully of the same overindulgence.

This one small, cozy like
a thrift store couch or kittens.
Community and friendship present
me with that first cup of Christmas.
Someone from that other world
whispers the memory to me.

Again, my tongue
experiences the most joy on this memory experience.