cherries plucked
nimble fingers stained crimson,
dirt and acrid fragrance
etched on the lines of my mother’s and father’s hands
starling pods,
nestled within the fruit
sing of opportunity
America
and slowly roast under the sun
skin blistering, feet crying
coffee beans:
The Anthem of Hardship and Perseverance
coffee milled and ground
freshly roasted
acrid, bitter, sweet, sour
swimming in
$40 ceramic cup
cradled in thankless hands
burdened,
I taste the tears that sit upon my tongue
I hear the anthems that rise and fall
I taste the liquid, vile and foul
and I mumble,
“More. More”
Success is guaranteed through hard work.
I drink.
Success is the absence of burden for the hands that plucked the stars from the sky.
I drink.
Success is a whisper of thanks—the bare minimum.
I drink.
brain chemistry altered
trembling hands clasped in prayer, stretched out
for thanks
for forgiveness
for everything and nothing in between
and I continue. I work.
I sacrifice and dream and blame and hate and love and hope
I dip the Bread
Soak the coffee
and chew.
chew.
chew.
stardust and bread
settle in my stomach
and I drink
Again and again
For I, too, must harvest
—
Photo Credit: unas.hu
