I hear the tiny “tink tink tink” and my heart perks up
along with the coffee.
This sizzle and spurt makes me happy
in a way I can hardly describe.
I’m drinking decaf
so it’s not about a jolt
of chemicals to wake me up and make me move.
Fixing a cup
I feel connected
to my mom – warm hands circling a cup, then cupping a child’s face
to my grandmother – that pink-on-the-inside mug we all want the most
to my dad – enormous mugs that lived in the motorpool for days without washing
to millions of parents all over the world who are starting their days
just like me.
Black? Light? Light & sweet?
I nod to them, over my steaming mug. First sip in the silence
of a dark and quiet house.
It’s not about caffeine, I decide.
It’s about the sisterhood of motherhood.