Americano Misto

the girl in Starbucks
fails to praise my awesome choice
nor does she inquire

’bout the progress of my day
I feel oddly unaffirmed.

Continuing with coffee-related poems (see previous post), another one for Frank Tassone’s challenge over at dverse.

I originally posted this as a tanka, but on reading Franks’s very informative post, I realized I may be writing kyoka’s.