2014 Poem a Day: 17 and 18

Internet connection is a bit sketchy in Appalachia where I am seeking a bit of respite. Posting this from my phone.

Day 17
Brown, liquid, gold
Earthy roasted beans
Warm and comforting
Acrid bitterness
In my mouth

Day 18
Land high in the sky
Where the soaring black hunter does fly/
Ascending the blue ridge/
My soul’s bounty does sigh

The boy is taking a break after an overload of playdates, late nights and winding roads. Its exhasusting at 7 Years old.


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