As I make a left turn onto a sun-melted asphalt road
And my right front tire dips into a small depression,
Causing the wave of coffee to crest and break,
Splashing through the tunnel-shaped opening
In the plastic lid,
Falling through space from the arch
Falling through space from the arch
Of my cup-embracing fingers,
Splashing my left pant leg, five inches above the knee.
Three spots of coffee
And I curse,
Feeling the futility of yet another Monday morning
As I drive past an old lady shuffling down the sidewalk,
Moving the aluminum-tubed superstructure of her walker
One step ahead,
Splashing my left pant leg, five inches above the knee.
Three spots of coffee
And I curse,
Feeling the futility of yet another Monday morning
As I drive past an old lady shuffling down the sidewalk,
Moving the aluminum-tubed superstructure of her walker
One step ahead,
Followed by two or three half-footsteps.
Soon,
Very soon,
I will need another cup of coffee.
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
Soon,
Very soon,
I will need another cup of coffee.
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
