Church Coffee

A Poem By Julie // 12/19/2010


Church Coffee


I am a mug
personally glazed
with blue skies
green tinged-clouds
and the word “fly”
They come around
to fill me with steaming drink
but their aim is off
splashing consistently onto the handle
only a drop or two
lands in the cup
and then out of the kitchen
into the sanctuary
this coffee is poured truly
but no one sips the brew
another day, another kitchen
but no coffee
here cider, my brew
though poured truly,
mixes strangely
with the grounds
that came before


I like it. It's very winsome

I like it. It's very winsome somehow.

Annabel | Tue, 12/21/2010


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