One Sunday Morning - Poem by Allan Thorne
One Sunday Morning
Down at the mini mart
On a chilly, misty, day
Two street guys
Open creamers and pour them,
Open sugars and pour them,
One after the other
Methodically into coffee
Until the coffee is the consistency of syrup.
A good day begins with a good breakfast.
Outside the cops have the street blocked off
So that hundreds of more affluent types
Who have gotten up early
To drive in from the suburbs can...
Run, jog, saunter and stroll by
To raise money for Aids,
Or heart patients,
Or some other 'worthy' cause.
Or perhaps just to show off their new tracksuits,
Or burn off the calories
Of the weekends feasting.
The police direct the runners
On to a freeway entrance ramp.
The runners sweep up the ramp
In the silver light
Of the sun shining from
Behind the silver clouds.
The street guys nurse their coffees
Coughing and spitting and watching
The spectacle with blank faces.
Comments about One Sunday Morning by Allan Thorne
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.