Jan Oskar Hansen Poet Bio

Cold Coffee

Cold coffee
On the black cafe table a packet of sugar it was red and 
advertised a coffee brand, besides it a tiny silver wrapped 
caramel. The server had removed the coffee cup and 
the small bottle of water, perhaps she thought I wanted to 
take the offering home. The table looked like wood, but
when I touched it was lifeless and cold; another fake thing.
I like wood when you touch a table or chair made of timber it 
comes alive. From a forest to the carpenter and when it rots 
it goes back to earth again. Plastic is born dead and will exist 
in all eternity and that is sad for everyone. 

This happened when I sat in a cafe waiting for my wife to
conduct business, I wasn’t thinking of lumber, but the way
I have an instinctive dislike of people look cold as plastic 
and shaped beautifully like Formica kitchen table.

♡Like0

Share Poem

---

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment