First Jolt

“Coffee is a good plan,” 

he chuckled. 

She brought it to him,

twisted her body 

as she bent slightly, 

and settled the cup 

dead-center on the coaster by him. 

Hair fell across an eye 

for a moment, 

and then she straightened. 

He returned to his book, 

paused, thought.

The same ritual every day

just as the sun cleared the fence 

and briefly swatted crystal candlesticks, 

drawing a swath of rainbows from them,

all brilliance, 

all ordered.