Writes With Pencils

fiction, memoir, essays and poetry

Tag: Coffee

Morning Cup

The glimpse of blue
yesterday
has once again
been muffled by grey.
The bare trees
drip.
The eaves
drip.
And the coffee maker
drips.
But its steaminess
releases the scent
of leather books, conversations, and contemplation
as the incessant March rain
nonetheless
unleashes sprout from bulb
and leaf from bud.
As it sputters
its final sighs,
not death by drowning—
but morning life
into my waiting cup,
it pours.

Comfort Cafe

morning coffee at The Shack

Marbled coffee foam,
a belated Valentine,
soothes my aching heart.

Good News Tuesday

image

After perusing the pastry case
and deciding on nothing,
before I ordered my coffee
it was sitting there, on the counter
a single, short latte
perfectly made
served in a hand-painted cup
exactly the way I like it
made by a young woman
whom I’d barely noticed on previous visits
whose name I didn’t know.
In response to my look of disbelief
she responded simply,
“I know what you drink”
and she did.
I smiled and asked her name
as I thanked her.
I’d been seen without even knowing it.

Earlier in the morning
I’d walked with a friend who was troubled,
the sunshine and air
birdsong and motion
gave her no comfort, no sense of ease.
So I listened and walked,
walked and listened, and finally shared
a story of my private struggle
to which she responded
“You sound just like me”
then she shared with me
an unshared story
and I watched her shoulders drop
and felt her breath expand
as she began to release her burden
of many years
as she felt seen, no longer alone.

As I drank my perfect coffee
I read the local news
of a young man who decided to forego
the flash of a single night
of dinner and dancing
the end of high school,
to throw a party for homeless women:
the forgotten, ignored, and invisible.
I imagined the women dressing
in donated evening clothes
and selecting their dinners
from the menu prepared by student cooks
and sitting at tables covered with cloths.
And I thought of the gifts he would give them
not only of dresses and dinner and fun,
but of choices and respect
and most of all, of being seen.

 

Surrender

image

Let go.
Lean back.
Loosen your grip
on what you thought you needed,
on what you couldn’t live without.
It’s gone.
And you’re still breathing
your heart still beats
your eyes still shine
you feel the sun warm your cheeks
your throat, your belly, your thighs
as you drink coffee facing east,
remembering without looking back,
and sink into your chair
into this perfect moment.
Surrender to the here and now-
it is all you’ll ever have
and all you’ll ever need.

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