The Coffee Cup

There’s a little, old coffee cup
Sitting proudly on my shelf
A chip or two, a tiny crack
Many stains to distinguish itself

Many the lip that’s touched it
Countless the brew it’s held
It’s stayed in several locations
Has wonderful stories to tell

It resided for a while in Texas
And made a trip to Tennessee
So many summers in Minnesota
Always full, black, hot coffee

Given away with a tank of gas
With a faded logo on its side
It was my Grandpa’s favorite
And he used it until he died

Now it sits on my shelf
Retired from years of use
Occasionally I hold it tight
Remembrance being my excuse

Tuesday, June 21, 2022