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When the Coffee's Cold

When the coffee's cold the story's old rooster missed his cue again nightmares in both our pens... clouds high on the horizon me, low on the totem pole when the coffee's this cold sundial's dug me a black hole... head-shakes rattle my brain Will they ever ease the pain back and knees have yet to please O, glorious morning, refills of unease

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David Fisher

Date: 10/23/2023 5:32:00 PM

What a fun, whimsical write. Love the first two lines, and hopefully the morning is all about the hot coffee, or at least it should be.

Gershon Wolf
Date: 10/23/2023 6:38:00 PM

Actually hot coffee + a nice bowl of cereal, potato chips, herring and schnopps all mixed together. If that doesn't do you in, have a little raw horseradish for dessert. ~ To the Moon, Alice!

Sara Etgen-Baker

Date: 10/23/2023 3:53:00 PM

I sincerely liked this poem, Gershon. It seemed to speak of a quiet uneasiness that's similar to a cup of cold coffee. I'm not a fan of cold coffee, real or otherwise. Have a great evening, Sara

Gershon Wolf
Date: 10/23/2023 6:37:00 PM

Myself, I use a fan to keep my coffee cold. lol. Thanks, Sara.