My 12 y.o. daughter is a coffee drinker.
Granted, she takes hers foofy
Creamer, milk, hot chocolate mix
Stirred (not shaken)
Served in a glass beer mug--
HAPPY ST. PATS! 1992--
But her old man didn’t become a Java Man
Until he was 16.
She sits in her PJ’s at the laptop
Feeding her NeoPets
Checking her email
Drinking her coffee
Her brother runs up to check in
And give her arm a tight squeeze
Before running off
Our Missing Piece is back with us
(momentarily)
And we’re sharing morning coffee.
1 comment:
Thanks for sharing this cozy little moment.
Nice poem.
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