The Last Aztec Mocha Poem by Kirby Wright

She announces to baristas and locals at the coffee bar that this will be her last Aztec Mocha for a year because she’s off to Hanalei Bay tomorrow morning. There’s an avalanche of hugs and tears. She wants to be missed. And she will be missed for her purchases and tapping out of caffeine-inspired monologues on the chocolate floor.

There will be no applause when she returns in twelve months. No one will admire her strings of puka shells, sniff her pikake perfume, or ask if Kauai’s waters are warm. The familiars will have moved on to new hangouts and jobs as she waits for her first Aztec Mocha in a bar filled with strangers.