“Morning Coffee”

I am more than what I decide to get done today

part mole on my grandmother’s cheek

some belittling gesture my grandfather made.

The indignant patriot before a righteous machete charge,

I was in his cold coffee this morning.

My aunt’s secret Charleston dances, when she decided to cut her hair short

the raindrop that fell into my mother’s eye at her wedding

my father’s ashes leavened with regret for having left Cuba,

and the pair of shoes he got when his mother died.

I’m standing between two mirrors back and forth,

forward and aft, as on a ship, and focus past

the echoes of my ancestors reflected to a point

just past the horizon….

…I am an unseen decision made in the dark.

The dead just collected, the pots of piss thrown out

the windows during some war, the bombing

to begin again as I dip my croissant into

my coffee,

this morning,

now.

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