the black, raven colored chemical that I love
to drink in the morning,
with my fat, contented cup
for my fat contented ladies,
sits perched on a landing in the sun room -
“What do you do?” she said.
And I said, “I pour coffee.”
“Oh,” she replied, retreating to the foyer.
Stones of Erasmus — Just plain good writing, teaching, thinking, doing, making, being, dreaming, seeing, feeling, building, creating, reading
6.6.10
Poem: Upon Pouring Coffee
![](http://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7VMILiljSNIX0arZQv1nUx6TgXEMAxSeCHWorcXIgFBeMFMSIY70oWvPReJ3Cdv2AsH_Y8tX849f8L0e5VgLp2sZSxJclHICQ1e1vqgOQH1LF3eO0jbxmYppmme5qnC_E1ms3njYDmTqLf5wAPkIOFDwWf1I5jXJqKF1cC3zl_xZfvA/s220/Logo.StonesofErasmus.TpT.png)
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