Many prognostications are over a beer.

Woven words thrown back and forth,

forgotten sayings left unclear.

*

But when we raise our coffee mugs,

In sips and gulps of aspirations,

with slurps and slugs and mini chugs.

*

The spoon sounds like a tinker bell

mixing our cream and sugar

Into the one hand well.

*

I’d much rather live in the wee,

wake up with the sunny side up

and drink a cuppa with thee.

*

And over time you and I

will measure our lives

by spoons and sips and pecan pies.