Clouds in my Coffee

I stir my coffee with a sticky spoon,
feel the grit of sugar where my wrist
rests on the table. Big clouds loom,
push eastwards and then turn to mist.
A rain shower comes and goes.
Customers shake umbrellas and rain
coats in the doorway of this sad café.
In the steam, a small biplane stutters
and starts to fall. I catch it in the sugar
spoon and give the clouds another stir.

Kim M. Russell, 22nd April 2019

My response to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads Poems in April Day 22: Beware of Poor Subsitutions

Shay is our host today, substituting for Anmol with an assignment for the class. She would like us to choose one of the images she has provided and write a poem about whatever the image says to us.

30 thoughts on “Clouds in my Coffee

  1. “and give the clouds another stir” … It’s all you can do, really. I hate to imagine a sad cafe; I sure hope you can manage to fix it, lift its spirits, get those clouds and patrons in a happy and giggling mood. 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

  2. It suggested to me a café back in the war years – but I’m guessing they didn’t serve coffee then. (Even here, everyone seemed to drink only tea.) Very atmospheric, anyway (no pun intended). You took the photographic image and made it into something of your own, which I think I’ll keep remembering.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Loving it, Kim. Steamy little cafes are a nice hang out place. The coffee doesn’t have to be real good, you did that sugar and steam so well.
    Long live our Greenwich Village!!

    Liked by 2 people

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