Coffee

The coffee I taste carries me home
Minnie Mouse smiles freakishly at me
from the American colored mug
I watch delivery men
wandering in and out of the kitchen
Each with their own accents
Using their hands
Struggling to communicate
in their awful broken English
I wonder how the weather is
back in their land
Such a miserable dreary sky today
sucks you into your deepest sorrows
Each thought searching
for a speck of sun
and these grown men, maybe lawyers
teachers or scientists
their breath staining the cold air
dark wet hair slicked back
foggy glasses
frowning weathered faces
frozen scarred hands
nearly breaking their backs
delivering couches to rich people
I ask myself if I'm the only one today
who cares about their story
their family, their dreams
Suddenly my problems seem
as small as grains of rice
and I feel guilty for crying last night
So I brew more of my Brazilian coffee
Pour these Great men a cup
My way of
building a moment where we can all sit
sipping
drifting to far far away
back to where we lived in innocence
where we never felt sorry for ourselves
Strangers bound by one common thread
of suffering