A winter week's poems, inspired by the day. And coffee.
bitter black dawn
arabica sips slow
Monday
hands the shovel
wondering where
a month has gone
new already old
another forty hours
long told
resolutions diluted
in morning stillness
fleeting
morning cold burning
breath spray dna
whiting wet to dry
east crisps azure
village of clouds
built of ocean exhale
Tuesday
thirty and one
in a winter sun
this light itself
destination
slow cooker chili
spiced loud
for a winter’s quiet
week of storm
said of new
this first
and still I thirst
for a rainy spring
a Wednesday winding
as slow river warm
to an ocean
always waiting
treatable not
curable this
want for
Thursday
to be
tomorrow
or morning after
another imposter
in unhealed existence
coffee pouring
slow to an edge
of longing for belonging
aftermath of
a rodent’s expression
cold is predicted
and I, barefoot
shower wet
regrets warming
as blanket familiar
standing
humbled
servant
to first light
asking mere
chance
of possession
my Friday
my morning
my quiet
awakened escape
subconcious memes
distilling dreams
damnation of
north winter winds
whistling contempt
pullover
pulled over warm
in a hesitant morn
coffee, journal, pen
words spill staining
Saturday begins
Impatient light
carving Sunday
morning shadows
dark roast hinting
plum and
molasses sweet
books over bedcovers
mid chapter sprawled
spine wide
stories and sips
savored slow
a week ends
or begins
I am undecided
© Copyright William Hazel, 2023
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