Iced Coffee

I’m grateful to the world
for spinning while
I was away.
Grateful to the road for still
being here with
its lines and holes.
It’s nice to see that
that street light has remained
steadfast in its incapacity and
that the sign it
doesn’t illuminate
is still bent and dented.

If I could thank the sun
I might think about it;
it shines on them
and that
and me
and my petty little bullshit
Iced coffee still exists and
so does the fact
that it’s not decaf,
like I asked.
It’s nice to know that
while I was away
in my hole
surrounded by my own
the air above it all
still flowed and saved
just enough for
me to come back to.

Published by R.T

Brit born and Canada bound, I run On Tuesdays, my poetry blog where I write weekly(ish) poems.

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