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.'
lovely, reminded me of coffee at my nannas when i was young. nicola
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