Posts by Michael Hanner

Occasional Mornings

In the darkened kitchen I press down on le piston;
feeling resistance as the screen seines the coffee grounds.

Out on the terrace I take a lawn chair abandoned last night
as we dallied beside the Vézère finishing the Bergerac rosé.

A pair of swans pass by. They nest up river in the reeds
where Eric rents his canoes to people like you and me.

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