Light blue feathers of flame in the gas range.
The tarnished and warm and well-loved kettle
rumbling with near-boiling water.
(No percolator for me; it has been banished to the garage for being dank and difficult to clean.)
The long 5-minute wait for the coffee to steep in the French Press.
Foaming hot coffee poured into a colorful mug,
a gift from my thoughtful young friend.
All these pieces culminate in afternoon coffee;
Sometimes a simple necessity to make my afternoon work for me;
it's also a simple pleasure.
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