Sure life’s good
here in America.
More grandkids than
we can keep track of.
One just started to toddle
around Peet’s where I savor
that second French Roast with
enough almond milk to look like
Now pitter-patter also refers
to how sadness cajoles then envelopes
me and my spouse and our aging cohort
wading way deeper into inevitable doom.
Not exactly black or white, but bittersweet
with growing emphasis on the first syllables.
Make her next java short in a tall cup — leave
lotsa room for some pure cane sugar.