A cup of London Fog warms
My frost bitten fingers
My toes curl tighter in my socks
Cramming together to stay warm
Sitting on the little window sill
A silent corner amidst the  
Voices in conversation
And the shuffling of books and newspapers

My mind is like a messenger dove
Still perched on a branch
Waiting for the note it must deliver
But whose thoughts are already
Lost in what the flight will bring

My eyes stare out of the
Glass divide
The see-through division between
The snowy outside world
And the coffee’s home

Suddenly all freezes
The strolling people outside
With their snow caps and weathered coats
Are statues
Identical
With no emotion of their faces
All those who sit at the tables
Within the café’s warmth
With their books and computers
Dissolve to sand   

I watch the slow extinction
Of society and friends
Movement and speech
My eyes
The only ones left unfrozen
My body
The only one left whole

Did they migrate to another world?
Did they realize their bodies weren’t really who they were?
But instead that they were particles apart of everything else.
Who knows?
Yes
I think
Who knows?
And
With my eyes unfrozen
My body whole
My toes cold
And a cup of London Fog in my hands
I take a sip
And contemplate