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Nyla Bishop, ’25
I miss momma’s coffee
Brewed in
Filtered out
Smells like home
Deep in heart
Kitchen in melodic flames
Cream and sugar
Splendid Splenda spliced, sliced,
And slipped in
I miss momma’s coffee
Slight hums
When soft sizzles
Hits the tongue
I remember mama’s coffee
With Deep brown stained cups
She makes her mark
But I would complain
Coffee changes you
Coffee changes me
Coffee changes us
I would complain
when Momma drunk her coffee
Now I would give anything
To see the the softened steam
On sunshine’s lips
One more time.
Yes I miss momma’s coffee
I miss it so, so much
But never will I miss it.
More than I miss her.
