The First Sip

Bustelo boils on the stovetop

Its aroma cozy and inviting

Wood drags along tile as I sit

Patiently waiting for Mami

To finish setting the table

Sugar, butter, jam and warm milk

A green tin full of soda crackers

Bread toasted over a pan

Flattened out till perfectly crisp

Placed in a teasing stack before me

She takes her place to my left

Wanting the best view of the TV

Her favorite novela is almost like music

Her lips pull back into a crinkly smile

Sharing a laugh that’s soft and playful

She tells me all the weekly gossip

Brown eyes mischievous, but loving

I smell the Pantene in her hair

The hint of cocoa butter on her skin

Both sweet scents of home

My eyes open, I wipe a tear

Her chair beside me, empty

Mug warm in my hand, café bittersweet

It’s always the first sip

That brings her back to me