Sonnet to Black Coffee
In dazed thirst, I assess foreign choices,
odd myriad multisyllabic brews.
Café fluency speaks foreign voices,
unfamiliar parlance, my wits bemused.
An expert barista concocts latté
skinny, stirred and wetted with steamed foam,
add double shot cappuccino au lait,
with mocha syrup, capped, to take home.
Vain choices deny what’s best in the bean:
Its floral fragrance — smoky, toasted, sweet;
Its exotic blends with robust caffeine,
flavors bold and distinct, smooth and discreet.
In a simple cup of “Joe,” nothing’s lacked;
Call it whatever, but I like it black.
by Gregg Sapp, from “Sonnets About Things Most People Don’t Think About.”