Brown bubbles skate across
the smooth, scalding surface,
and cluster at the brim
of the hot mug of dark brew.
They crowd each other,
and murmur steamy coffee yarns
They nudge one another,
Happy to see her around
Each bubble is anxious
to be the first one to burst,
and flick its rich, sharp scent
into the crisp and clean of her’s
There they pass through the lips
Each relieved to be touching in
Its beans have been crushed
In its trodding serving bliss.
I am warmed on the thought of coffee
I call myself fanatic
That satiates me with its death
May I serve the maiden?
Who is now my addict!
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