Hartwick College's Student Newspaper

The View From Oyaron Hill

Mourning Coffee


By Cheryl Jones

Hers, pungent and bitter like his heart

His, with cream sugar and strange sour sweetening

At other ends of a broken conversational piece holder

Her body like iced coffee

But her eyes out of a fresh pot

His face clustered with milk spots

And body with no rippling

Beneath a cage of jelly toast

A chair scratches the floor with memories of female steps in early mourning

Once cardiac pills contained in sunrise plastic

Dissolved in a seven a.m. brew

Whisper goodnight at dawn