Morning Coffee

Sitting at our kitchen table,
Eating cereal with sugar,
Watching them go through the careful
Ritual of making coffee
Always, bigger kids and grown-ups
With their ceremonies daily;
This one, with a smell like almonds,
Orange light from pewter shining
Steam from off of cups while carried,
One who stops for milk and sugar,
While another straight to sipping
Plows into the morning paper
Parents can be such a mystery —
What are all these words they’re reading?
Worried brows across the table,
Span that seemed a hundredfold –
Sitting at our kitchen table,
Eating cereal, observing;
Memories like fresh-brewed coffee
Full of steam, then disappearing

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