poetic prose


Inside Acuppa-Cuppa, on the corner of Camino Carlos Rey and Rodeo, the cafe glass front looks on a sidewalk patio, the parking lot, and a small dirt island (the home of three aspiring evergreens). Light traffic rolls by and the sky is the flavor blue. Winter has only flirted with Santa Fe and the day is almost balmy. By the door two overstuffed lounge chairs bookend a small table set with a vibrant chrysanthemum.
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