crimson

 

i see the sun slowly
rising and the blue birds
sit on the front porch

coffee smells black
telling us to watch
the world as it goes

green ground delights
merry making music
sound is no hate

desperate we love
to be together
even we’re far

 

2014

About chester maynes

poet, and a lover of music and books.
This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to crimson

  1. Very nice my brother…God bless!

  2. “Coffee smells black” is a genius line.

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