A chip in the handle
Reminds me it’s mine
Hot coffee that burbles
To fill the inside

The cup is a big one
To counter the sleep
Or lack thereof
That I just received

And caffeine is given
So freely it seems
Bears dance in the picture
A circus of dreams

I cling to the handle
Embracing my hand
And wonder what wonders
Are mine to command

But holding the cup
Is all I can stand.

From day 10 prompt at
napowrimo.net,
a poem describing a place or object, with a last line – or 2 in this case – seemingly unrelated to the rest of the poem.

The rest of my NaPoWriMo work is
here.

Thanks for reading!