Poetry by JC Snyder

currently watching antiques roadshow (love it) over a nice lunch, thinking about what i should post on a day like today. here i am, celebrating that i will be moving to my own apartment and yet thinking about a friend who is coming back to life after a sudden collapse. all of this stews together in my brain…. and, when all else fails, a cup of coffee usually does the trick, hence the following…

The Scent of Coffee

that familiar earthy vapor
compelled by something larger
[by the principle that states hot air
must move on and up]
gently steams my pores.

spindrifts of hazelnut waft closer
with a memory of my mother
telling me of her mother
who would, in early morning car trips,
open a canister of coffee.

oh how it would fill the car
how it would fill them with excitement
those children conditioned to know
that the scent of coffee then meant
a trip to the beach.

slightly cooler, my coffee takes
a shape much like a ghost who,
against its will, is caught on film.
the scene feels just within reach
then quickly vanishes

playful, wistful, gone
rich aroma lingering.