Souvenir CupA Poem by James
Drinking coffee from a souvenir cup and listening
to the early morning sounds of the world waking. I wonder how I ended up in this spot; sitting on a redwood deck, my feet kicked up on the dew covered railing; There's a crow cawing in the tree at the edge of my yard; my pecan tree, the only one that made this year. The bluebirds chased him away, but he came back. Bluebirds, are pretty to look at, but that's about all they're good for. They've taken over the birdhouse I set out for the chickadees. The tree frogs are chirping loud, loving the cool damp morning. The frog's chirp and the squirrels bark back. It's kind of fun to watch, really, they stop mid-climb, the squirrels, hang upside down on my tree to bark at the frogs, for chirping too loud in the morning. I wonder if the frogs even care, the squirrels do, that's for sure. So I just sit in my chair, the one that I built in my workshop, sip my coffee as I look out over my yard and all I can think is man, I really need to mow. © 2016 James |
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