A Green Sonnet

I eat in quiet, pistachio and cream.

The morning hums, the city starts to stir.

Twelve dollars leaves my hand, a passing dream,

A trade for something calm, for something pure.

I meet a man to talk about the day.

Our words move slow, then drift and disappear.

We nod and smile, then turn our separate way,

The moment leaving less than what was here.

Around me, green—the windows, glass, and trees.

It breathes below the engines and the sound.

I try to learn that patience, bit by bit,

To eat the life that grows from common ground.

I eat green now to bring myself to stay,

To find one slower breath, one gentler day.