This is not
a coffee pot
it’s sunlight
casting crisp shadows
across a square
it’s a bird fluttering
into a bright blue sky
it’s every city that
ever welcomed me
with open arms
and crowded pavements
it’s chiming waterfronts
clanging with boats
and narrow backstreets
blue with shadows
and a small square
where a child plays
with an orange ball
it’s a fountain
it’s a cool marble table
wiped down
by a man in a white shirt,
nodding to acknowledge me
it’s a painting
of a woman
holding a single rose
An object poem for Mish at dVerse. I love my little Moka pot. It’s a one cup pot, so it’s very selfish. I use it every day.
Sarah writes poems 
Oh yes! All of those things…I can see them in my mind’s eye as I sip my espresso…
LikeLike
Coffee is such a unifying thing for people. It not only stimulates the body, but the conversation as well. Good coffee is hard to come by without a good coffee pot! Well done!
LikeLike
You brought tears to my eyes with your evocation of a pavement cafe. Just one of the things we’ve lost to Covid. Stay safe.
LikeLike
You captured the moments so beautifully. Very evocative.
LikeLike
I realized yesterday that I’d forgotten what coffee tastes like without a shot (maybe a double-shot) of Kahlua… I sipped it while reading your wonderful poem. Thanks for taking me out!
LikeLike
Sigh. My heart lifted reading all of these images. SO beautiful! Life ABOUNDS with such gifts. (This might actually be a perfect poem to link at earthweal!!!!!! Prompt this week is gifts.)
LikeLike
Very relatable, Sarah. Some objects are valued both for their function and because they evoke memories. 🙂
LikeLike
A seasoned coffeepot is often a part of the fabric of our life. accompanying us through different phases of our lives. You’ve drawn beautiful word pictures. Well done!
LikeLike
I love this so much! A Moka floods memories for me as well, not of travel but of family dinners around my Italian mother-in-law’s table. You’ve made me wonder now if her Moka pots (she had many, all different sizes) conveyed this kind of imagery to her. She died last year. Thank you for adding to my storehouse of ways to think of her. And for this way to open my eyes to the everyday.
LikeLike
Oh, such memories! For most of last year and continuing into this, we have been drinking coffee each day from Delft mugs gifted by dear Dutch friends. Yes, drinking that coffee brings back many of our travels and adventures.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Amazing the memories the aroma of coffee bequeaths us, and you express them beautifully, romantically.
LikeLike
Whether memories of places this pot has been with you or the memories that coffee provides, this clearly holds significance for you.
LikeLike
This is simply perfect Sarah. I love all the memories your little pot evokes.
LikeLike
Your lovely poem brought back memories, Sarah, of Venice and Vienna, sitting in cafés and coffee houses, watching the world from my table. I especially enjoyed the detail in these lines – like a foreign film:
‘it’s chiming waterfronts
clanging with boats
and narrow backstreets
blue with shadows
and a small square
where a child plays
with an orange ball’.
LikeLike
Coffee and those who make it are special gifts to its drinkers. Life wouldn’t be right without them! Lovely tribute, Sarah.
LikeLike
A lovely tribute to coffee and wonderful memories.
LikeLike
I enjoyed all the scenes and memories that your little Moka pot brought to life. Also, the various lengths for stanzas made this so interesting to read aloud.
LikeLike
and your passion for coffee is revealed … all those delightful images to remind you of its magical moments!
LikeLike
Will think of your poem tomorrow morning when I take my first sip ~~ a great write!
LikeLike
Incredibly good—it got better and better with every new line.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wonderful. This brings back memories of traveling in Italy and making coffee each morning. I learned how to do it using this brewer. I really like the visuals in this stanza,
it’s chiming waterfronts
clanging with boats
and narrow backstreets
blue with shadows
and a small square
where a child plays
with an orange ball
Thanks for sharing.
LikeLike
I found myself nodding in agreement as I read your poem. Well done. Thumbs up.
LikeLike
The number of Italian coffee pots we’ve got through… There’s nothing like it for bringing back memories of all those places that aren’t home, but that we like to think could have been.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Exactly. Those unlived lives…
LikeLike
If only.
LikeLike
I know this… every morning I drink my coffee and suddenly I’m elsewhere.
LikeLike
Beautifully penned
LikeLike
Thank you!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Most welcome
LikeLike
I wholeheartedly agree!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Pingback: how to make coffee in coffee pot? – Coffee Tea Room
Pingback: how to descale a coffee pot? – The coffee around
Pingback: how many scoops of coffee per pot? – Coffee Tea Room