tears come easily
in this overwhelming
world of broken brokenness
deeply tempted to role away
from the pre-dawn
dim clock-radio light
murmur of morning news
slip back into silly dreams
gird up my ragged monk robes
brew strong black coffee
double up the sugar ... a rare treat
braced ready to serve
Double the sugar is the least we can do, when times like these are upon us. I hear you, my friend. This world should be doing so much better than it is.
ReplyDeleteNice. Ready to serve up more poems, I hope. I've always been fascinated by dreams and what happens to our synapses at night--that time of distant memories and fantasies. Your poems always make me think.
ReplyDelete