Ode to Coffee
G.E. Bradford
At this stage in life, the leaves have tapered
away to die—lingering on the branch.
I like to believe you made me grow, I’d like too
but
This feeling
is only my heart cracking
Open.
Sending a thousand black thoughts
to stain a page.
Nowadays I gaze in the middle of coffee mugs.
I lose myself in trees
I allow
my thoughts to muddle, my eyes to blur
Myself to fade
in a splendid
Stir.
When I try to strain my mind
a million
memories submerge.
So, to spit it out
at last
onto your saliva sodden soul—
When you lashed me with your eyes
I knew. My favorite wound. Would never
Heal.
Your foaling of this one, so permanent, so fleeting:
Your hand in mine, your hand in Mine, Your Hand in Mine.
Someday a warm wind will blow the dead things out
but for now,
please
linger.
Looking Up, Dreaming—