I reached for a cup with stripes in the cupboard,
setting among the ivory porcelain others,
and after putting it down on the marbled counter
I waited for the coffee to spit and sputter.
I poured from the carafe to the cup with the stripes
and added sweetener from a yellow packet, twice.
I stirred with a long-stemmed spoon, and thus
the coffee swirled and swirled.
I confess among the rivers in my mind
I counted the swirls encompassing time.
Somewhere there adding some milk in a dollop,
I came up with this veiled verse of codswallop.
If you’ve read this far thinking I’ve something to say,
maybe it’s just that I like my coffee this way.
Or perhaps my own struggles in crafting aright
this poem’s distraction is less of a fight.
The coffee in the striped cup has a caramel hue,
is sweetened with a bitterness aftertaste too,
Like many poems that I’ve already done,
it’s finished, and the cup sits in the sink in the sun.
I loved this! In my mind’s eye, I could see that striped cup, the marble counter, the swirls of the spoon…Very nice to have this poem to start my day!
Thanks! Sometimes the simplest observation speaks the loudest. I’m glad you liked it!