American Life in Poetry

Kwame Dawes is the editor of Prairie Schooner and one of my colleagues at the University of Nebraska. Had I never had the privilege of getting to know him I still would have loved the following poem, for its clear and matter-of-fact account of a sudden loss.

Coffee Break

It was Christmastime,

the balloons needed blowing,

and so in the evening

we sat together to blow

balloons and tell jokes,

and the cool air off the hills

made me think of coffee,

so I said, “Coffee would be nice,”

and he said, “Yes, coffee

would be nice,” and smiled

as his thin fingers pulled

the balloons from the plastic bags;

so I went for coffee,

and it takes a few minutes

to make the coffee

and I did not know

if he wanted cow’s milk

or condensed milk,

and when I came out

to ask him, he was gone,

just like that, in the time

it took me to think,

cow’s milk or condensed;

the balloons sat lightly

on his still lap.