Ah, The Morning Grind!

Coffee mates
By Edward S. Gault

First thing in the morning
I get out of bed and straight to the bathroom.
Then it‘s time to start on the coffee.
Many mornings my daughter wants to help-
So I go to the crib and get her out
I go through the whole procedure
Of grinding the beans and brewing them
-One handed, as she inspects the work;
Always wanting to reach
Into the bag, to get one bean
And drops it into the grinder,
Like a little Juanita Valdez
-And I’m her burro.
My wife says we’re coffee mates.
After my shower, I’m running late as usual
My wife pours coffee
Into both the travel mug and thermos
It should be just about enough
She complains that I don’t
Leave her enough first generation coffee
And that I overfill the tank
Spilling water all over the place.
On my way out, I grab a tie off the rack
And stuff it into my jacket pocket,
So that I can put it on
-once I am on the T.
I grab the books
Due at the library two days ago
(These fines are really cutting
Into the coffee budget!)
My daughter sets my shoes before me.
They’re half her size at twenty months,
Still, she manages to pick them up
And carry them over
And watches as I struggle to get them on
Without actually bending over
To untie them (In under 10 seconds).
I fly down the stairs, and then look up to see
My wife is holding her
as she opens and closes her hand.
When I get to the station
I realize-
I forgot the travel mug.



Copyright 2008