Laptop resting
Next to beverage and biscuit
On coffee shop
Table top
Customers eyes passing
Through text and tome
By themselves
At various book shelves
I am sitting
At my pulpit and post
To write what I privately spy
As patrons browse and buy
I get it: this poem’s title isn’t parallel to the first one in this series. Rules are meant to be broken, right?
Categories: Uncategorized