The Bloom of Youth Dies
(Youth is Wasted on the Young)
Oh, to be young again,
and have your arms wrap me
in bear hug warmth,
in breath-stealing squeeze,
as I taste morning coffee and cream.
So cold the cup rim,
and how flat the flavor bine,
without the channel
of your steamy lips.
Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment