
The coffee sits, black as a crow’s eye,in a cup chipped like an old prophet’s tooth.It steams, a quiet oracle,whispering to the dawn’s frayed hem.Not redemption, no,but close enough—its bitterness kisses the tongue,sharp as a lover’s half-forgotten lie,warm as a hand you swore you’d hold forever.In the diner’s drone,where the light bulb sputters like a […]
Hymn for the Black Brew

Kenneth, I feel blessed to have this opportunity to read this poetic hymn. Being an early morning coffee drinker with my Bible open, I can attest to the presence of our Father.
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