My Broken Cafetiere
A Writer's Best Friend
My Cafetiere is not pretty.
It is as old as me and lopsided,
The spaces between its metal struts are hard to clean,
but I do.
I clean out the gritty remains of my morning routine every day.
To make the perfect writers brew you need:
Coffee, freshly ground,
Water, hot but not boiling,
and rich heather honey from the Scottish hills.
And my Cafetiere -
You have to hold the struts just right,
and push the plunger at an angle to avoid scalds.
And when it's the colour of tar - pour.
Slowly, diagonally,
because the spout has a crack.
When the steam rises in snake-like curls bask in the early morning sun,
toast and butter a thick slice of plain bread,
Mother's Pride, of course,
and slice banana onto its crisp surface.
And don't forget to put a mat under the Cafetiere.
It leaks.
Leans ever so slightly right,
as if crumpling under the weight of time.
An old soldier, but a good one.
As ordinary as they come,
and yet extraordinary in her capacity for giving.
After all, words, coffee, and time
They're what make writers a living.
About the Creator
S. A. Crawford
Writer, reader, life-long student - being brave and finally taking the plunge by publishing some articles and fiction pieces.
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Comments (5)
I love this… I especially loved the reference to Heather honey 🥹… I forgot it was a thing!! (Been too long!)
I love the simplicity and meditative quality of this. Just stunning.
Oh this was such a wonderful ode. It was just so beautifully written!
There was a time, not long ago, when things like that were made to last. We kept them for decades! And even if they worked poorly, we learnt to adapt because they mattered to us. I really enjoyed your ode! Brings back memories of the machine my grandmother used to shred carrots. The whole thing was 40 or 50 years old and had so many issues! My grandmother refused to get rid of it. Every time she used it, the entire kitchen had to be cleaned. But I have never tasted better shredded carrots in my life!
The way you express love for this object that gives you purpose, the way you paint the ordinary as extraordinary, the way you teach us how to use it…there is nothing I don’t like about this ode. One of my favorites so far. ❤️❤️❤️ “It leaks. Leans ever so slightly right, as if crumpling under the weight of time. And old soldier, but a good one. As ordinary as they come”