Thursday, April 29, 2010

Last Day of Spring (a breakfast poem)

After the rush
the silence is broken
by my friend wren's
consistent and persistent
making my oatmeal
and the inevitable climb
up the stairs of self employment
more laborious

I revel in sixty
soon to be eighty
soon to be ninety

A clanky trailer
rattles the road
interrupting morning perfection
a song poorly ended

Reminder of inevitable
hot days in my attic

1 comment:

  1. I love this!

    The upwards climb of self-employment wreaks havoc on the knees, I can tell you from experience.