“Morning
Cup”
I take morning black
just a dollop of cream low
in a westerly sky
spoon a race around my china
cup of thoughts
a diner mug with heft
hook a finger through an oarlock
forecast
read in surface roil
spider veins of milk white glaze
say light afternoon rain
chased by roosting shadows
so lay in a course hew
to Utrecht blue
sine waves lapping parallel
just below the lip
tip back the dregs
saucer shadowed
like a new moon
thinnest of grins
lighting
on my fingertips.
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