Coffee


There are many that I miss,
having sent my last one away
into a trash can along the road just yesterday morning.

How bittersweet are the punctuations,
of its comforting smell,
and its enlightening reverberations.
But the best was on those early mornings
and garrulous nights,
when I would have a little something
going on in my computer;
along with the sunlight seeping through the windows,
or during those serene hours of darkness,
when the entire world has fallen into a deep slumber,
and all the noises have ceased.

I would go into the kitchen for coffee,
and on the way back to my tasks,
I would take a light sip of the bitter liquid,
and feel the awakening rush of the dark taste.

Then I would be my own locomotive;
trailing behind me as I returned to my tasks,
the refreshing smell,
the indicators of progress,
the signs of industry and thought,
the signal of advancement that told the twenty-first century it was moving forward.

That was the best cup of coffee I’ve had,
when I would sit back down at my desk,
full of vaporous hope,
and an invigorated mind,
and just sit there,
with my head pointed down at all the words in the parallel lines.

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