the froth on the coffee
goes up, then slowly
diminishes, as we trade
cookies, and looks, and tidbits
of very usual lives.
some sugar, no cream, and
have you heard of so-and-so,
remember him from the way back.
did you know he was dead?
then share a meaningful silence, shake
heads and coffee spoons,
breathe deep, and
feel how life is so short,
and eternity fully contained
in one more little receptacle
of frail clay, enameled in white.
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