cup of espresso
the foam stings
the back of the throat
catches the soothe
the memories circulate
so strong I taste them.
What is it about mindfulness that fills me with sharp specific memories?
My thick handled coffee mug with the a blue script logo:
The coffee shop hidden behind the Sierras on HWY 395 where
I'd come down from a self-imposed
epic sierra hike
to feast on a breakfast at
A week or two of crunchy granola,
brown rice and trout set me up for
a mound of hash browns
a 3 egg omelette stuffed with ham, peppers, cheddar cheese and onions
a side of bacon and a side of sausage
and keep the coffee cup full.
Bought this cup for my dad Jack (who started me in 1948).
It stayed with him until he was gone.
Now the cup,
and the mindful morning sips