Friday, January 18, 2008

Drink

It's poetry Friday, sez Maggie, over at Mind Moss. Sounds like fun. Today's word is juice.

It’s cold out
I awake tired and cranky
Impatient for coffee
I watch her rip into the new day
As if into a summer orange
Juice glistening on her fingers
Running in bright rivulets down her cheeks

6 comments:

Maggie said...

I like short and succinct full of vivid imagery. Interesting thing, I read the lines

as if into a summer orange
juice glistening on her fingers

and I felt like I could taste an orange. Mmmm. That's a great metaphor for morning people, which I am so not.

Clowncar said...

Thanks Maggie. Yeah, my poetic style is pretty terse.

The poem was about one of my daughters, who was having a much better morning than I.

Mother of Invention said...

Love it! Wanted to grab my digital to get a shot of those glistening citrus drops!

Oh to be a kid and rip into every day without the java crutch!

Irrelephant said...

*G* Very nice--short and sharp and boy did it deliver. Excellent juxtaposition!

Clowncar said...

Thanks, MoI. I'm never sure who is the real role model, me or them.

Hey, Irr, I missed this Sunday's Vagapocalypse (we were sledding!) (on the best damn sledding hill in the state!) but listened to a chunk of an old one, with the esteemed Stucco of Mars as your guest. Very cool. Very funny. Glad you liked the poem. Thanks for wandering over.

Irrelephant said...

*g* CC, you missed a whopper today, but never fear, next week the inexhaustible Stucco Hisself will be our star. So to speak.