The Warmth I Carried

In the cupboard’s dark depth, a thermos I found,

its dented exterior still held warmth around.

Stained with the echoes of coffee and night,

library corners where ideas took flight.

With every late sip, comfort poured in,

a vessel of solace when days wore me thin.

In the chill of the winter, I’d hold it real close,

a reminder of warmth in the life that I chose.