TWO BEST FRIENDS ARE BARISTAS
Even thousands of miles away, hints bombard the senses, every minute of every day.
The burst of fresh coffee’s aroma, and the knowledge that it won’t be perfect.
A wall of air so steamy, it’s worn like soggy paper.
Silent fog, swirling, devouring all in its path without remorse.
Snippets of jazz, riding on a veiled wind.
The fleeting whiff of a long forgotten candle.
Whispers of spirits hidden in the midnight rain.
In her sultry voice, New Orleans is always calling us home.