how to live on coffee and prayers

by Renee Blair

The coffee filter rustles like the

Pages of your notebook, which

Only tires you even more.

Make your drink strong to

Make up for the lack of resolve

In your shoulders, and

Your weak promises.

The familiar sound of percolation

And you reach the bargaining stage.

Rub your blurry eyes and reach

To the top shelf for the chipped mug

Red as blood; red as your eyes.

Your anger pours out like coffee

From the carafe to your cup.

Yet once you smell the strong aroma, you begin

To justify the ways of man to God.

Stretching out each aching finger, you take

The first of many sips.

Your mind struggles to wake up as the tiredness

settles into your eyes like concrete.

And the only sound

You spare energy to make

Is “please.”