I stopped to pick up a bagel

I stopped to pick up a bagel at the corner deli,

a thick slab of cream cheese sandwiched, crushed

between two toasted halves, and coffee,

rich and dark, bitter that morning, caffeine laden,

feeding my belief of needing it

to start my sluggish body,

even more my sluggish brain,

and took myself to the river’s edge

and a bench still wet with dew

facing the early morning water, muddied and brown,

rushing, like humanity, toward a bigger ocean

to crash and roar and tear away that gentler shore,

rushing ever onward, crashing, roaring, tearing away,

while I sit here watching, in no hurry,

content on a dew-wet bench at the river’s edge,

rich coffee, dark and bitter, caffeine laden,

and a bagel, a thick slab of cream cheese sandwiched,

crushed between two toasted halves,

contented, watching the world rush by.