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It’s fall and as the Big Machine of consumerism churns out the Latte of Pumpkin Spice popularity, I too fall in line of the sigh-able coffee moments.

I’ve been working a lot this summer writing in my fiction world and I have left my coffee project in arrears, I fear.

Always a Cappuccino has become that good friend that I can easily slip back into conversation with, but don’t call all that often. However, today I was jarred out of my inactivity by a line of poetry.

I’m not great with poetry. As a fiction writer, Poetry and I have a difficult relationship. I mean, I know when something moves me. I have favorite poets and poems, but I skirt the edges of deep poet-y things. Ironically, it is the often times marrow of poetry that punches me in the gut and rearranges my soul.

I have a point, bear with me.

So I came across this line of poetry by one of my favorite contemporary poets, Elan Mudrow. I follow this poet’s blog, but honestly I don’t know much else other than often times, the words sing to my soul. I haven’t delved any deeper into the biography of this poet because I like how our relationship stands right now. Inspiration that touches my in-box when I least expect it.

This week, the poem in my in-box was called Last First Day Back.

It was this line from the poem that sent shivers from my toes to my head and curved my lips into a smile and produced a sigh from my lips:

“Coffee appears in an array of costumes”

Maybe it’s the changing weather, the leaves slipping to the ground and gathering in jump-able stacks on my lawn, but I feel the call of coffee again. It’s time to get back to the talking about coffee and the one costume I prefer it to wear, the cappuccino.

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