Mid-Morning Mate (the drink; I can't figure out how to accent the e!)

What have I got in my pockets?
A bean.
A stone.
A broken rubberband.

The clouds sweep cirrus into blue.

My other pocket yields:
a list of building supplies,
a broken dog cookie, and
a nickel.

The compost pile awaits its turning
as I stir goats milk and honey into Mate.