Brunch

Early
too early
for last night’s night owls
you start
coffee
hot and… no not black, not this morning
you enjoy the decadence
of cream
real cream
and sugar
Eggs
and ham
shrimp?  Why yes, Don’t mind if I do
and blintzes
and pasta
pasta?
YES
oh, the delight
simmer gently
in silence
of a lonely diner
morning starts late
but it can’t come too soon

 

April Wells
NaPoWriMo
4/2/17

Autumn of my youth

Memories crunch

beneath my nearly naked feet

Dreams fade into the smell

of birth and death

yesterday, tomorrow, now

 

Aimlessly

thoughtlessly

absentmindedly

I walk

shuffle step

to hear the crunch

smell the mapply oakness

that escapes from

the roads that I didn’t take

and wish I had

 

And here I am

in the autumn of my youth

shuffling my feet

through

what are still my dreams

Through the songs unsung

The words stuck

racing each other

around in the addled rainbow of my brain

 

I lose myself

in trying in this autumn

to find myself again.

I listen to the shuffle crunch

that loses the memories

makes me wish

for the dreams that I still wish I could dream

though the light

of the harshest sun

burns away any false hope

realize that

if not today then when

but my today

is spent.