Stagger up, pet cat, feed cat,
gotta have it, beautiful fresh coffee!
Do you get it?
I don't care...this is my time for joy!
Open the brown package from Atwater’s
aroma intoxicating, $13.50 a lb.
(quick trip to Costa Rico in a bag),
smooth dark beans ground fine...
red kettle screaming, then silenced,
water roaring into steam, but quickly quelled.
Pour into into a #2 brown filter
into a blue pottery cup. a certain one…
No, not yet…
Go back to the vaguely rumbling frig,
pull out a small container of
and, in a steady flow--with surgical flourish--
add that touch of ground cinnamon…stir...
and gently but decisively, pour all
over diamond ice-cubes, filtered water...
But then I go somewhere else
when I take that first unrestrained,
but kind of lady-like sip
|Iced coffee, night, one star above glass.|
Letting my eyes roll back, but
not so anyone (even the cat) can see,
I feel it
travel slowly down my throat...
And no one but Camilla can hear me
exhaling one--maybe the only one of the day--
Poem, photos. Kay Weeks On July 7, 2012 Slated to be 107 degrees.