Wine at Sunset

Wine at sunset,
Coffee at dawn.
A moment’s respite,
A quiet song.

It hides in habits,
In fresh-baked bread,
In spice-filled cabinets,
In books half-read.

It lives in dances,
In evening strolls,
In second chances,
And gentle souls

It’s found in teardrops,
In brimming eyes,
In quaint antique shops,
And apple pies.

It hums in gardens,
In folded clothes,
In a hundred pardons,
That no one knows.

It’s in the children,
That run and play,
In how they linger,
Then slip away.

Wine at sunset,
Coffee at dawn.
No need to name
What we lean on.

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