The Milton Scribe

What is it about the smell of
a café that is so lovely, so
loving to my senses? Even
the smallest little bookstore café,
what with its grounds roasting
and milk spilling, hands dancing
with their early morning agility,
as the sleepiest of hard workers
mosey on through to a line
where the earliest bird did
catch their worm (if not
yourself). Something calming,
so soothing about those scents
and smells, something curious
about the way in which I seem
to float around their liquids & pastries