Coffee

Green bean is plucked from the plant by dark sun-baked hands
In a country on my continent I have never visited
Dropped in a basket and carried along dusty pathways
Lined with yellowing grass and determined weeds

Carted on the back of a rickety truck
That bumps its way along weathered roads
As lined faces flutter by
In a flurry of browns and oranges

Travelling bean is loaded on a cargo ship
Safely stowed with its friends from the fields
And bound for a factory where everything
Is clean and clinical

Unpacked and inspected by white gloved hands
Sorted and categorised for the one-way trip
Down a shivering conveyor belt

Roasted bean is full of flavour
Altered by a fiery baptism
Into consumer culture

Branded and packaged and shipped
Across the world to supermarkets where idle hands
Have no concept of the journey

Delivered also to the cafe on the corner of my street
Unrecognisable and granulated, but defiant

In my steaming cup
And in my blood soon enough
Its essence remains

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