awakening
today
on a saturday
and somehow
unlike other days
for someone never usually
remembering
most of the time
dreams that is
this time
this morning
in the early fog
somewhere between
sleep and consciousness
a pastry shoppe
filling the dream space
with all the noise
and commotion
and old world charm
of France
aromas of coffee
and pastry sweetness
conversations on surround
tables full
the hustle bustle
of the old painted door
opening and
closing steadily
oops here comes another
newspapers spread
laptops
and linen bags
the murmuring of early
as friends meet
as orders are announced
as patrons leave
with arms full
the daily of this
taken for granted
but for me
standing there
mesmerized
eyes wide
beyond the glass
croissants and eclairs
madeleines
covered in hazelnut
the macarons
lined up
like spring tulips
in the field
butter cookes
and lace cookies
and the little signs
describing
other goodness
never before seen
requiring a simple point
and a nod
to purchase
and now wondering
what was chosen
and then
how in the world
to stay there
but morning calling
and dreams tossed
like the covers
only a sweet beckoning
remaining
and thinking of the day
like a pastry shoppe
in France
there is so much
to choose
that is good
today