Don’t Save the Bitter Grounds
Don’t save the bitter grounds.
He was still as the book he read,
His path to death was almost lead.
Yet it did not seem out of place
that his dry feebly trembling hands
a soothing sip of hot chocolate brought to his face,
For it suited those mirthful eyes which took
More joy in the drink than the pain he shook.
He did not open that storybook upon his lap,
Though often gazed, and its cover tapped–
For surely its contents he knew,
Yet perhaps with steady time, it’s meaning brewed.
But maybe it wasn’t worth opening,
For beans of chocolate are far sweeter than coffee.
I ordered one hot, rich with a mountain of frothing.
