fftopic:I'm going to go off topic just briefly, be completely honest, and show my ignorance, because this poem provides a perfect example of something.
I like it very much, but I prefer it written without the line breaks. One can sense the rhythm, cadence, whatever you call it, without being spoonfed the line breaks. Once I got over that, it made reading poetry much more pleasant.
.
.
Sheepherder Coffee
I used to like sheepherder coffee, a cup of grounds in my old enameled pot, then three cups of water and a fire, and when it's hot, boiling into froth, a half cup of cold water to bring the grounds to the bottom. It was strong and bitter and good, as I squatted on the riverbank, under the great redwoods, all those years ago. Some days, it was nearly all I got. I was happy with my dog, and cases of books in my funky truck.
But when I think of that posture now, I can't help but think of Palestinians huddled in their ruins, the Afghan shepherd with his bleating goats, the widow weeping, sending off her sons, the Tibetan monk who can't go home. There are fewer names for coffee than for love. Squatting, they drink, thinking, waiting for whatever comes.
I think that's just lovely. Wish someone would start a thread on this because I want to understand what I'm missing. :hide:
That's it. Sorry. Carry on. Pour the coffee....
:coffeelaugh:
