Morning is just freshly cool
From the house down to the canal
Birdcall bushes line the banks
Ducks meander bobbing their heads
We huddle in our fleeces
Against the cold screened porch
With coffee-warmed hands
I look over at you
Sitting in your lawn chair
The coffee steam rising
The slightest smile touches your lips
A fleeting memory of my errant 8 ball
Or simply the pleasure
Of this quiet morning
And the silence of each others company
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