On Writing

Poem 115 – Sunday Morning

Sunday Morning back at the dining room tablecooling coffeecoffee breath thickfour pensthree journalstwo markershand-written poemson pretty pink paperthe tops ragged fromtearing them off the padoverflowing bread basketrecycled paper napkinstoo many to fit in the holderso they topple under thelaptop cord & virtual schoolprint-outs the napkin holderholding up Miller’s cell phonethe Mega To Do Listthis poem… Continue reading Poem 115 – Sunday Morning