Papa's Cup
The old stained coffee cup mocks me
It is old enough to protest
But fortunately
Cannot shout
Nor hold a placard.
We’ve been together
Through several generations
Of offspring
Thus, the PAPA
On its face.
We share many secrets
And as with my dogs
I know the cup can be trusted
The one who presented it to me
Has graduated from college
The one who now points to it
And says: “PAPA”
Is not yet in pre-school.
Thus, do I sit
Gazing into an empty cup
Overflowing
With memories.
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