Constructed out of stainless steel
It never rusts or looks worn down
It never seems to age
He always looked the same to me, never seeming to change
But towards the end he sounded like the coffeemaker when it
Gargled, sputtered, and spat
His hair resembled the silver coating of the machine
The brown liquid it squirted out
Yellowed his teeth
The lights behind the buttons glowed bright green when powered on
But as the years went on
They became dimmer
So did the lights in his eyes
The drink it produced claimed to give energy
But when he drank it
It came up his sickly throat
A few minutes later
He passed away
With a coffee cup on his night stand

When I got up that Sunday morning
I sat at the table
With bloodshot eyes
And stared at the coffeemaker across the room
I would need caffeine today
As I trudged towards my dad’s prized possession
I wonder if it would even turn on
Had it died with my father?
No
I pressed the power button and it came to life
It worked
But my dad didn’t.