New poem

 COFFEE

Silence sits and smokes

 across from this window,

her legs dangling from a rusty fire-escape

smoke and ash rising up to the clouds above,

she doesn't care, she’s a runt, a deceiver,

a philosopher, a debater, questioning all with a stare,

this city is her journal, her work of art  in red and blue

filled with codes, notes, poverty, dirt, noise, and strange doodles,

and my window remains open to her, to the breeze

scattered journals and papers say this life is mine!

the steaming coffee mug set on the table

also waits for company and the morning to move along.