Yesterday’s Coffee

January 26, 2010

is it also Today’s? I wake up confronted by a ghost in my coffee pot. It holds the open promise of yesterday and its failure. For it is not all consumed. Shall I throw it out? Let it fill the sink, and let me pretend again that today I will write my thank you notes.  Today, I shall call my senator and tell them to pass a climate change bill. Today, I will eat yesterday’s salad, and not tomorrow. Will this new pot of coffee be wholly consumed? Or will it stare at me again tomorrow, bleary eyed in the kitchen, as I stumble for the grinder?

Her morning had really been drab

So she gave “smart” coffee a stab

More caffeine had she

Than normal Java times three

Then out-ran her bus and leapt over a cab.