A Different Place To Drink Coffee Poem by Dyhanara Rios

(Honorable Mention winner at Northside ISD's May Day Poetry Contest)

I pick up my fork but dropp it just as fast;
My coffee, eggs, and tacos
Have me dwelling on the past.
Please excuse me, I’m simply sad;
Too much has happened lately.

Grandpa doesn’t walk among us anymore.
I helped carry the weight of his casket,
And now I carry the truth that he’s standing
In a better place, smiling down on my face.

Sadness shakes my status quo;
Confusion settles,
Emotions flow,
And I’m chilled by an air of despair.

Please excuse me, I’m simply sad;
I’ve thought about it too much lately.

Grandpa and I rose before the sun did
On every Sunday morning.
We went to church
And had breakfast afterwards.
We’d read the Sunday paper
On every Sunday morning.

The last time I stepped foot in the church
Was the day of his funeral,
In silence and mourning.
If I returned, I would find myself crying,
Remembering the days he was dying.

Those were the days of breakfast in bed,
Where I refilled his coffee
And fluffed the pillows under his head.
But now that the earth is not his home,
I assume his pillows are clouds, pearly white;
And his coffee is heated with rays of sunlight.

Please excuse me, I’m simply sad;
Sunday breakfast just isn’t the same.