“Morning” – 3 poems


when you leave in the morning,

the faint scent of you remains on our bed for just a few breaths.

i remember meeting you,

falling asleep in your arms and thinking

how right it felt, although i’d known you

a fortnight,

if we’re being generous.


light plays on the floor

we’re missing a tabby cat

to bask there all day.


the last two scoops of coffee

go into the maker, which i need to clean with vinegar

because its scent is that of a thousand cups of coffee

from a thousand mornings.

i wish you were here to share

these last two cups with me,

but you are sending melodies into the morning air

as you should be.



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