at the table

on my way to work
I pass by a bakery;
delivery trucks are loading up
a thick scent of freshly baked pastry
oozing out of the open door
floating around like a heavy cloud

on your way to work
you pass by a roastery;
nothing to be seen,
white wall enclosure
and rows of windows framed in black
but the spicy air from within
escapes into the streets

in another world
there's coffee and toast;
we're having breakfast.