Wednesday, April 3, 2019

Poetry Month: A Cup of Memory 3 of 30

It's here!  It's National Poetry Month!  I'll hoping to write a poem every day this month.  I've decided to keep it simple this year.  I'm going to write about whatever strikes me each day.  I suppose it will be like a rollercoaster ride of poetry.  You'll never be quite sure what you're in for from day to day.

Today's inspiration: coffee

For years 
I sat beside
grandpa
stirring
chocolate milk.

Grandpa added 
a bit of cream
to his coffee;
another detail
to his story.

He was the only one I knew
who changed 
his coffee 
from black
to tan.

Grandma, 
her coffee always black,
added ice cubes,
making iced coffee
before it was cool.

At my mother-in-law's
the coffee pot was always on.
She could pour a late night cup,
drink it,
and then go to bed.

Grams liked her coffee hot.
She loved when the waitress
returned 
with the pot of coffee
to warm her cup.

Here I stand 
pouring
my cup of coffee
hearing their voices
wishing...

© Cathy L. Mere, 2019

1 comment:

  1. This "tan" coffee drinker loves this, partly because some of my earliest memories of coffee involve my grandmother too. When I was a little girl, I didn't like cold milk in the morning. One time when my grandma was visiting, she poured just a little bit of her coffee into it to warm it up, and call it "coffee milk." When my mom found out, she was horrified, but I drank coffee milk from that day on. Thanks for evoking that memory for me!

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