I'm back to writing a poem every day, whether they stink or not.

Friday, December 09, 2005

Learning Coffee

The first time I smelled
coffee beans, I smiled.
I would smell the can
while Mom and Dad
drank that mysterious
black liquid that seemed
like the cup that all
adults must one day drink
and become serious.
Even when I forced myself,
years later, to like the taste,
I used the memory of it’s
smell to search the walls
of its flavor for the door.

1 comment:

Rod said...

This is a perfect description of my journey of addiction to nicotine