If you can’t serve it by the slice
it isn’t real coffee
so sayeth myself
to anyone who will listen
If I have guests, it also serves as
warning-shot across the bow
for those faint of arabica heart

It is a good day when the java
comes from the carafe like
the meat off a Thanksgiving bird
plated in a mug that I can take
outside, my backyard deck

fragrances mingling
fresh brew, grass-caressing dew
cream and sugar
sparrow chatter and crow caw
a day coming to life
me coming to life
life coming to life

I need a vintage
percolator to rub
conjuring up barista genie
granting me my every
caffeinated desire
But I will settle for
more mornings
more nights with which
to anticipate
more mornings
more coffee
times to contemplate
the ‘how’ practicality
of making my coffee

– Mark L. Lucker
© 2020

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