A voyeur from the door waiting for an empty street.
Walking alone in the crisp fog, it’s too early for coffee.
As my thoughts turn to the passing trees, Serendipity strikes as a cafe opens.
A table for one, a cappuccino and an almond croissant.

Poetry | Stories | Photography
A voyeur from the door waiting for an empty street.
Walking alone in the crisp fog, it’s too early for coffee.
As my thoughts turn to the passing trees, Serendipity strikes as a cafe opens.
A table for one, a cappuccino and an almond croissant.
