Coffee with mom

Early morning every day of the week,

she stands in the kitchen

and pours her coffee then heads out the door.

Her head is covered in dark, tiny, pinwheel curls, and smells of Carolina Herrera.

She is wearing a purple blouse that curves to her waist, and green pants that show just enough of her ankles to tell how olive gold her skin is.

Her heels accentuate how tall she is, and she stands as straight as a pin.

She gets in the car ready to drive to the office, and drop me off at school.

She stops and looks at me with her dark green eyes, and I know this is going to be a great day.