I remember when I was a kid this time of day was one of my favorites, the time of the cookies with milk, or just the time of the nap in my mom's bed.
Now it's time for coffee, a cigarette, contemplating the mountains, remembering and thinking. Thinking about what was and wasn't.
Thinking about the wounds, the scars and the passions.
Thinking about the madness that surrounds us, remembering that we are not alone in this endless journey of life.
Remembering that when we feel alone or hurt, the best shelter is with mom. Their arm's are the best place. Their cookies, and the milk now mixed with coffee, are comforting.