when the coffee is weak
Lisa Alden



​and the rhododendron is taller than the gutter
and it throws off all its blooms
and they litter the path
and there is no path
any person can discern
the stray cat chases the gray cat
and the squirrel chases the other squirrel
and the word scamper comes to mind
until the fight pierces the thought
and we want to see
and we want to turn away from
and the pills are somewhere
and the pills are someone else’s
and the pills have not been touched
and the pills wait
and the pills expire
and a single petal lands on the doormat
and the doormat doesn’t mind
and the mail carrier puts the envelopes through the slot
and drops the september issue on the doormat
on the petal
drops the september issue on the promise
becomes the promise
when the coffee is weak
and we need a new promise
and we need it not to be broken


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About the Author:
Lisa Alden is a William Dickey fellow in poetry and graduate teaching associate at San Francisco State University. She is Poetry Editor of Fourteen Hills.