Every Morning Poem by C S Katulka
Every Morning
Every morning is started the same way: with
pain
in my back and a head, full
of memories I tried forgetting.
After smoking
my morning
glass of Tea on the way to the bus,
in almost the same spot
as always,
I lie to myself.
About taking leisure walks
on my days off and writing
better poetry.
At least one will be noticeable
as its happens.
Wednesday, February 26, 2014
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4/25/2024 6:14:52 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I, too, have mornings (mournings) , much the same....recognizably relevant....thank for sharing it. PEACE