When a walk to the coffee shop takes a poetic detour

You never know what you’ll discover when you go to get your fix

Living in Seattle, and working from home, I drink too much coffee.

Mostly, I make it myself. At times, I’ll stroll to the coffee shop. I don’t like working in such places, but I do like walking to them – the clean air blowing off the Cascade mountains, the sanity-saving screen break. An opportunity for micro-exploration.

Recently, I noticed what appeared to be a letter box nailed to the wall of a house. Free poems – take one, read a sign. Inside, was a clear plastic envelope half full of sheets of A4 paper on which had been printed a poem, “The Child”.