Hickory Street Breakfast Blues

HICKORY STREET BREAKFAST BLUES


Morning coffee
in an
outdoor cafe
remembering
slowly...

The birds
have made peace
with the
morning traffic.
They've gone
contrapuntal.

Little by
little
I draw you
up out of
me and
stare you down.
You don't
hurt now.
You're just
memory.

My mother,
in her innocence,
believed
it all began
with how
people treated
each other.

Wanda,
old friend
long dead,
do you
hear the birds?
Do you
smell the coffee?

I think
when I die
it will just
be for a little
then I'll
wake up standing
beside a road
in the morning
light.

Your eyes
contain the night
You hold sleep
in your hands

The geometry
of woman flesh
The metaphysics
of your breasts
How stars are born
out of your navel

The brine of
your thighs
washes me back
to ocean depths
and
that first memory.

If I sat here writing
all day,
who could blame me?
But the day
waits.


Alfred Huffstickler

Posted over on Nerve Cowboy