Light In A Cup Poem by Robert Rorabeck
Light In A Cup
Quiet, quiet
Slow to seep
Weeping oil
Go to sleep
Early morning
Is waking up a
Slice of orange and
Scrambled eggs
Words are tokens
Nests of mouth
Crèche of tongues
You can’t see
A hummingbird’s
Moving wings,
A spirit across the
Table perfectly laid
Drinks the flowers
Ripples shade;
Your eyes a napkin
Sop it up,
Azure outfits
Light in a cup.
Monday, July 20, 2009
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5/6/2024 1:01:02 AM # 1.0.0.1119
