The morning coffee

 

The morning brings coffee, not words

Empty pages, sterile and white

Stare distant

imploring

The sting of ink from my feeble pen

And I take another sip.

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8 thoughts on “The morning coffee

  1. The words you have put on paper today says so very much. Maybe some Jamieson in that coffee might make those blue eyes twinkle a bit. I like this poem a lot. reminds me of what I call a TS Eliot morning.

    • lol, I’m going to have to do something, and that’s sounds as good an idea as any I’ve had. That ring gives it a certain “weight,” after all.

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