Oh classic Cuisinart coffee maker, how I adore thee
For each morning you beckon me out of slumber
With your, not too loud so as to wake the whole house beeps
Calling, “come start the day— it’s time”

No K-cups in this kitchen, only unbleached filters and a stockpile of whole beans
Your timeless stainless steel form frames your neon blue clock face
Small buttons glow, softly offering me four options
Shall I choose bold as this new dawn takes shape?

Bleary eyed days of caring for newborns, the grief of a marriage ended, and the dog whining to go out before my first sip
The dark, cold morning hours of December, a summer sunrise on the patio, my two teenagers still dreaming,
Sitting quietly as I come to grips with the news of the day, your quotidian warmth fuels one foot to step in front of the other
So awesome are you, that even at day’s end, I lay in bed and know you’re there, waiting for me

And I look forward to tomorrow.

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