Nature’s first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf’s a flower; But only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf, So Eden sank to grief, So dawn goes down to day Nothing gold can stay.
10pm knocked off the nightstand, tonight it rains cold coffee.
Fourteen of us wrote life and each a singular way of looking at a mug. I was number three. I don't want to risk speaking for all and posting the whole poem without consent