a big coffee pot always
perking on the back burner
pumping out the acidy
odor of fresh coffee
coffee poured into a
thermos – ready for the
night shift
always coffee on the
table at a restaurant
always coffee
the aroma of my childhood
I never liked coffee but
I miss my dad


32 thoughts on “coffee

  1. The aroma of childhood always lingers with scents of food ~ I like how it evoked the memories of your father with the coffee ~ Thanks for the personal share ~


  2. I like the way the repetition works here, winding down into that memory like a plume of steam.
    My mother was never without a cup of coffee when I was younger… We still tease her about it.


  3. I love how you connect the smell of coffee to your Dad. And you’re right about how prevalent coffee is in our lives…it’s everywhere. I’m sorry for your loss of him, Candy.


  4. I also associate my dad with the smell of coffee – his morning ritual. The repetition of the word works very well here, pure caffeinated energy – and then that killer last line!


  5. Really evocative. I understand this really…such strong associations! And when I came to the end of your poem I gulped. Sad, poignant, and so well written!


  6. Oh now.. M
    God.. i hate
    cigarettes too
    but OMG..
    he didn’t
    talk.. Dad
    sure looked
    cool.. lighting
    up his cigarette..
    as 007.. yes.. his
    role.. law enforcement
    too.. embers bright iN
    coals of him.. sticks
    of smoke.. so
    menthol cool..:)


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