Sitting this still day
at the kitchen counter

sunlight accenting dark rings
on marbled red Formica

near old Seth
my ox of a wall clock framed
three-inch thick wood

when my right elbow jerks
as his big hand clanks ahead
one minute to ten twenty-nine

smacking my made-to-last
glass carafe off the counter
in an icy second…

a galaxy slips…recovers

I slip off the stool
fumbling for one hot second
and voila, Mr. Coffee saved.

Seth chimes the half hour
I sip lukewarm coffee
letting a drip down

the outside of my yellow cup
then wipe it up with a finger
recalling past good saves.