shot glass
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

David Colodney

Page 1 | 2 | 3

Morning in Mourning

The sky cries, morning in mourning.
I don't know if the sun will rise today –
it's so fickle in its changing, sometimes
showing itself, sometimes hiding behind
whispered clouds, changing stories,
ashamed of the day.

The coffee maker speaks
to me in huffing and puffing,
the satellite TV fades in and out,
the toaster blows some bread
out its top, this milk smells sour.

When I was a kid, my father would order
me around the corner to see if it was raining.
Dying too soon, he left me on some gray street
corner to unravel all this on my own.