Something About a Flat White

A cold autumn day,
The sky is bright, the sun just a cloud away.
Nothing to see but the flat white that’s brought to me.

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A smile and a polite gesture — semantics, really.
Small talk, “One sugar, please.”
Daily fix to get me where I need to be.

Bittersweet is my flat white, brought to me.
A few sips are all it will be,
But still, I return, for the flat white reminds me who I need to be.