I used to love the aroma of it

Waiting in line to buy exotic beans

Pungent shocks as orders were ground

Transformed into a floating miasma of awake


That was Galloway’s on Robsonstrasse

In the seventies

After buying a book at Duthies

A small price for a talk with Binkie and the intelligentsia

I’d head up the block for Joe to go

And while Galloway’s was a cornucopia of epicurean delight

Coffee was the smell that drew you in and

Followed you out


I used to wake up and have my breakfast


Coffee and a cigarette, ahh


Looking out at the frosted peaks of the north shore


Two rituals intertwined






And I was satiated for a moment


Then it became mundane





Until it was made over

Went upscale

Something to measure and judge

Baristas with followings

Ethical beans


Coffee consciousness with layers

I thought I was a lifer


I used to love the aroma of it


One day

I woke up

Forgot the coffee

Only smelled the roses


And another day

Realized I didn’t miss it

Hadn’t had a cup for weeks


Love ends

Even for coffee

Grounds for divorce



David Trudel   © 2013





Filed under Poetry

2 responses to “Coffee

  1. This is fantastic David! I am just the opposite though…for many years I was not able to drink coffee due to my Mormon faith…when I left it a few years back I could not get enough coffee….Now I looooove it!! But I still love the smell of roses too;)

    • Thanks Jennifer. For me it was part of the raw food and vegan lifestyle makeover. The juice I have in the morning is really, really good but the preparation and cleanup take so much time I don’t have time for coffee. After a few days realized I didn’t miss it at all and am much more balanced without the caffeine. But I still like the aroma from time to time.

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