The beach plum jelly, unctuous, flowing
out on the deck, on the Vineyard
the thick sour dough toast, almost burnt
dripping with it, a deep cut of my coffee
the bees coming closer, swarming,
knowingly, sensing its nectar,
as I shoo them away,
wanting a nibble, a bite,
of my breakfast that day
The cup of coffee, dark,
right beside me, hot,
the thick aroma of chicory
wafting around me, alive
summer vacation, richly
bliss in this moment, luxurious.
letting the day slide later
nowhere special to be
edited July 9, 2012
October 14, 2010
Martha’s Vineyard, MA
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 19,120+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
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