There is homely magic
in this late-night kitchen.
We gather
in a communion of teacups
resting on worn Formica,
encircled by elbows
and infused with cinnamon and safety.
Warm, buttermilk light wraps
around our shoulders
like a 60-watt blanket.
It spills from the windows
carving shapes in the night.
Together we weave
our disparate stories.
They rise like steam before us,
between us;
twisting and converging
until we belong.
The image Midnight
Snack, by Curtis Wilson Cost is offered as a writing prompt at The Mag. Join us.
