These Mornings

© Steve King

All Rights reserved

These mornings the old men,

staring through the fog of coffee steam,

sing of spirits visiting their dreams,

and of a distant year,

of tears that will not balm

things that were simply meant to be.

And ritual tales of fair desire

to claim the place of memory;

laughter to deny that certain moment;

myriad reasons safely hid,

meanings that are cloaked amid

the fog of these mornings.



A new poem for The Poetry Pantry
http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com