Morning Coffee

I pick the mug up by the body. The radiant heat scalds my fingers and palm.

Gently, to avoid spilling, I set it down.

I pick it back up by the handle and take a sip.

The coffee feels comforting, helping me shake off the memory of blankets and the desire to crawl back under them.

It lost little, if any, heat between those moments.

I slow down to receive the gift in the proper way and show my gratitude.