Power Breakfast?

Saturday morning – warm and sticky; my steps are springy

I round the corner from the coffeehouse heading toward my office

a college kid leans one shoulder against the door frame of the entrance to the apartments above

cigarette dangling in his right hand, so loosely held that if I say boo he’ll drop it

in his left hand is a juice glass full of dark, almost flat looking cola

the same breakfast my mom had every morning when I was a child – Pepsi and a Salem

the boy’s eyes stare at the sidewalk – his posture says, " my life sucks and don’t you dare disagree with me"

I look down at my reusable mug full of organic lemon green tea and my blueberry/blackberry vegan muffin

my posture says that I am enjoying the sunny morning and am happy with my place in the world

I reach in my pocket, touch the flat stone inside and mutter, "I am grateful for being 36"