Just Sip

The heavy steps of January
leave footprints in the snow—
the shadow of shoulders
carrying a cast iron pot.
We look up from our feet
to see a street light winking
in the early twilight.
Our eyes then drift to
the bus stop bench
and the pretty girl
wearing the faux fur, hooded jacket.
The lead heart lifts.
The snow becomes a mere dusting.
These feet could take you anywhere—
or nowhere, if you let the mind win.
The grey filtered life
walks with us
in these darkened sky days.
The bright lights of now
offer a parachute of promise.
The next street over
might possibly offer infinity,
so, we believe in it—
and the whipped cream topped cocoa
waiting for us to sip.