It's a Kuerig

Not a cure all.

Since every workday morning

I have mistaken as weekends

Like those Indian summers

At nine

Over-sleeping-in

My little white pillow cloud

I piggy back rode

Since then mistaken my dreaming

For Heaven (in the Nth

degrees)

Far from myself.

Here now,

MidLife.

Grind...

How dark roasts have that

So similar in aroma

Bitterness

And caustic ash

After

Taste.

Instant is cheap.

Coffee.