Judgment zone

I don't like ordering coffee at Starbucks

specifically because the sizes are weird

and the people are judgmental,

and I know that it's a silly thing

to be afraid of,

but I didn't even try coffee

until I turned 18 and left my hometown

because everyone judges everything

in small towns, and I find beauty

in the little ways nature appears

within my love for the concrete jungle,

where dead grass sticks up in the sidewalk cracks

the way my brother would step on them

to make me angry as a child,

but the grass is dead because it's mid-winter

and the snow that should be there has melted,

but it's much too cold for green

and that chilly wind that runs through my clothes

makes me long for warm coffee

that I can't order at Starbucks

for fear of judgment that won't even matter

where I live now.

Perhaps it never did.