Alone, My Mother Still in Bed

Under the circumstances,
I suppose itís only
natural to be craving
scrambled eggs,
and to wish to eat them
in a diner far away,
maybe in Montana,
or on the way to Abilene.

How strange it seems,
I can almost
taste them now.

More coffee, please,
I was on the road all night.

And the waitress smiles
as if she knows exactly where
Iíve been, and is glad to see
I made it out alive.

July 9, 2006

Previous Entry     Next Entry     Return to Songs and Letters     About the Author

Main Page
Authorís Note
A Listening Thing
Among the Living
No Time to Cut My Hair
One Hand Clapping
Songs and Letters
Collected Poems
Early Short Stories
Armenian Translations
News and Reviews
Highly Recommended
Letís Eat
Favorite Books & Authors
Useless Information
E-mail & Parting Thoughts

Flippantly Answered Questions

Top of Page