Meniscus
Meniscus, meniscus, my coffee is cool.
Little meniscus I'm nobody's fool.
Once you seemed warmer; held by my hand.
Then there's this draft from a Tim Horton's fan.
Might be the windows cooling me down.
Maybe the door rifting around.
Regretting my coffee; some see my frown.
Little meniscus my cold little crown.
Maybe I'm thirsty; maybe too cool.
Currents come at me; stealing my drool.
Little meniscus forgive what I said.
Now that I'm drinking and thirsting instead.
Little mensicus circling my cup.
Not rising over and burning this shmuck!
Copyright © Trevor Mcleod | Year Posted 2012
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