Weak coffee

Sometimes love is not calling attention to weak coffee, but drinking it anyway.

Weak coffee this morning.

I made it pale,

Without limp intention.

I did not employ the careful plans

Of so many scoops

To a cup,

So many cups

To a pot.

In the morning

I do not count.

Truth be told,

Counting has rarely got me

Anywhere,

And

My non-measure eyeball method

Usually works.

Still

This morning

The coffee is weak.

My breakfast companion who counts

Scoops and cups and pots,

My breakfast friend, with care,

Does not note

The pale demeanor

Of the coffee.