Monday, 7 March 2011

Day 231

This one just came to me as I made myself a milky coffee this afternoon. An act which is forever married with the comfort of my mum when I was ill.

Council House Coffee

Pour me silkily into
copper pan - see as I
rise up in honour of
her. Smell me slightly
burned where I lingered a
fraction too long.
Pour me into instant
granules - sugary sweet,
blistering heat. Then wait
until the skin slides
over taut and tight.
Pursed lips - caught in
concern whisper still:
'Drink up and
all will be well.'