A Coffee Poem

DAD HAS A BAD CUP OF COFFEE AT A ROADSIDE DINER….
By
Gregory K.

“This tastes like mud!” my father said.
“There should have been a warning!”
I thought there was. The menu said,
“Our coffee’s ground each morning.”


(I'm posting an original poem-a-day through April in celebration of National Poetry Month. Links to this and other poems here on GottaBook (and there are lots of others, because poetry is NOT just for April) are collected over on the right of the blog under the headline "The Poems".)

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