Breakfast in a quiet cafe, dreary
Sunlight trickles through windows
On a hot plate, piled high--
Eggs, bacon, toast--my dear coffee--
Richly absorb the sunlight,
Reverently I dip my fork first
Into perfectly scrambled eggs--
Lightly salted--
Ease my scattered thoughts,
Fragments come back together
Inside my mind, I notice the colors
Muted softly by overcast skies,
People pass quickly or slowly,
Sometimes dawdle by the door--
I will never know if they learn
What it means to be real,
But today I know I've lived.