Morning Coffee — A Poem

These slow summer mornings have me writing poetry again…


For a moment, at least
my coffee is warm
in my bear cup
where my favorite colors
remind me of my aesthetic sensibility.

Black bear on cream porcelain
with a rich brown interior
that holds the color
of coffee with cream
the same color as a worn leather bag
or old wood
—anything with character.

The room is quiet
the wind gently blows
the birds are singing
and the dog
is licking her paws.

Soon the coffee will be cold
and the day will start rushing in

with, or without
this kind of sweet attention.



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