Morning
Cup of coffee, steaming hot...
Cigarette smoke across the table,
AM radio plays an old favorite,
Smiling, tired eyes across from me,
Double window through which I see,
A big park-like yard,
A child's wonderland...
I miss those hours,
Shared with those I loved,
Now its alone, cold as stone
No reason to set the clock
No reason to get up,
No one to talk to,
No pot of coffee,
Merely a pot of memories.
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
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
