terça-feira, 22 de setembro de 2026

the coffee maker

 it sat in the lowest area of the paddock
Always on always dripping
All I needed was a cup
In the paddock cows and competition

I found a plastic cup clean and perfect
Like a pearl inside a shell
Half under a partially burnt log
I picked up with shaking hands

uncontained gratitude
As I took it in both hands
Positioned it under the tap
I got my coffee

And the pasture would continue growing
As I slowly sipped
As I pontificated over the fate of the world
those cows would eat forever

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