Who knew such a simple thing
could give such lasting pleasure.
I do love a cup of coffee, that sweet sensation
of bitterness and joy, every warm sip like a sip of life.
But the cup – it’s just a cup. Or is it?
Ahh, well the cup is so much more than
a keeper of a boiled, brown brew of revival,
It’s a cup of memories.
I see a six shooter strapped to the hip
of a young boy, the cap gun that tamed
the Wild West, the alley west of the house that is.
I see a longhorn waive his horns from the field
rolling by in the frame of my open car window,
the warm wind tearing my eyes, causing my cheeks to
flutter like the sheets on Mom’s backyard clothesline.
I see the worn boots I outgrew last winter
and my favorite brown cowboy hat. What happened to that hat?
It’s just a cup with a handle my arthritic finger
won’t fit through anymore, but in its reflection
I see little girls in a saddle atop a horse
whose greatest pleasure is to carry them around
in endless circles followed by their screeches of pleasure
pulled from behind like a urgent shadow.
In that cup is West Texas dirt blowing in my face
on a hot summer day as the wind stacks
the tumbleweeds against the chain link fence
around the baseball field I grew up on.
I see a cigar chewing war hero
tethered by love to my mother and us boys.
No, its not just a cup of coffee.
It’s a drink of life from a cup
of my memories; a cup of love.
Well, look’y there, I have sipped the last swirl,
But I am thirsty to see more,
I think I’ll get a refill.
Ronald Whetsell's Creative Writing and Poetry Blog 
Ron, assuming this speaks to your own experience, where did you grow up? We’re horses a big part of your or your sisters life? And your father, a war hero! The coffee caught my attention first as I regard it as the elixer of life after 24 yrs of sobriety! – Deb
Deb Keeler Yee C: 703.472.1573 *The Villages, FL *
On Sun, Jan 28, 2024 at 2:19 PM Ronald Whetsell’s Creative Writing and
LikeLike
Yes, Deb, it’s about a few personal experiences. I grew up in Odessa, a basically desert community in West Texas. We were always around horses, but we didn’t own any until our daughters started riding as young teens. And yes, my father was a hero in both war and peace. Thank you for reading my poem.
LikeLike