Coffee Split on the Floor
it is not that i struggle with their death,
i mean,
the lifecycle is well documented
we understand its phases
but,
what is left behind
is just coffee split on the floor
that feels hard to clean up
it feels like an assault course
perhaps too tough
it feels like play fighting
that has become too rough
it feels like a love
that has lost its loving touch
it feels like my leg is in plaster
but no one will give me a crutch
and,
that is where i am left
and i can cope,
listen, i can even still crack a joke
and i still go to sleep waking up each day
but with them no longer here
i have heaps,
if not hills, perhaps even mountains
of unanswered questions
and they tumble down –
in a fast moving avalanche of fear
like twisted fan mail,
that no one can manage to reply to
James Garratt – May 2021
v
More poems at
https://theboybehindtheglasses.com/
More about this blog, The Boy Behind the Glasses, here
https://theboybehindtheglasses.com/2020/01/08/the-boy-behind-the-glasses-an-introduction/
More poems from 2021 here
https://theboybehindtheglasses.com/category/poems-and-writing-2021/
Coffee Spilt on the Floor – Written May 2021 (Aged 46)
