Join the Neopoet online poetry workshop and community to improve as a writer, meet fellow poets, and showcase your work. Sign up, submit your poetry, and get started.
window
sit at the tables long width
the stool and I lean
with elbows and folded arm
while sipping dark roast
and watching the charm
of easy drama
the black raven dropping
from the nest atop
the microwave tower
the traffic bunched at the lights
reading trade names
colours
and passer-bys in pace
and gait
the pretty new cars
shinning with the sunlight
radio plays something hip
for the young
tangible for the elders
I can sit and drift in thoughts
be it raining or swirling thick
snow muting the yellow
of the streetlights
a noisy oasis of machinery and
chatter
a place where I can ease in
and enjoy the succelent warmth
of cream and brown sugar
the heat of the mug smooth
in my hands
and the clock on the wall
close enough to take a peek
at to know my schedule
is on
I can still feel favourably alone
in a crowd
Style / type:
Free verse
Editing stage:
(c) Neopoet.com. No copyright is claimed by Neopoet to original member content.
User login
Author information
Region & Country
north ontario
Favorite Poets
Klo, .., Ida, .., Rhiannon1010, .., Pleiades, .., Valryianne, .., Ester, .., Stephanie, .., Emina Smajevic, ..., Elefentee, ..., Sommer Lyn, ..., Jasmine, ..., Rula, ...
Comments
Psyve
Fri, 2011-04-08 07:38
Esker,
This was wonderfully descriptive.
I first thought it was set in a favourite pub / bar, but I later understood this to be set in a cafe ("and enjoy the succelent warmth of cream and brown sugar the heat of the mug smooth in my hands") .
A great description of the sense of comfort and peace we can take in certain surroundings, even when there is hustle and bustle all around us.
What a great ending:
"I can still feel favourably alone
in a crowd"
It gave me pause for thought...
Psyve
P.S : A minor typo in "Succulent"
Nordic cloud
Tue, 2011-04-26 10:54
"shinning"
That's like me always, always writing mountians which is wrong, you often do this, you should write a poem about shinning, not shining!
The images cramp and stretch like elastic,
glinting here and there with spots of colour,
the clank of cars and trains,
the staccato of the peoples feet on the pavements
and the general mixture of details,
catching our eye and absorbing the tastes.
Love Ann
"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.