Each Morning Poem by Donal Mahoney
Each Morning
It is not the position,
not the money,
not the opportunity.
It is breakfast
with my steaming tea,
my rolls,
my periodicals,
my wife pouring, buttering, keeping quiet,
my shower, towel, shirt and tie,
my selection of that tie and
that tie’s winding,
my good-bye.
Saturday, April 25, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: work
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4/23/2024 3:10:38 PM # 1.0.0.1119
