Darling Coffee

Meena Alexander, 1951

The periodic pleasure

of small happenings
is upon us
behind the stalls
at the farmers market
snow glinting in heaps,
a cardinal its chest
puffed out, bloodshod
above the piles of awnings,
passions proclivities;
you picking up a sweet potato
turning to me This too?
query of tenderness
under the blown red wing.
Remember the brazen world?
Lets find a room
with a window onto elms
strung with sunlight,
a cafe with polished cups,
darling coffee they call it,
may our bed be stoked
with fresh cut rosemary
and glinting thyme,
all herbs in due season
tucked under wild sheets:
fit for the conjugation of joy.