Early Morning


Just a few  drops.

On the back of  hands

At the corners of the eyes

clinging to the strands of unruly hair

sliding down the red tip nose and burning cheeks

smudging the red letters on the pages of an old diary

and blurring the faces in the picture

mixed with a few cups of bitter-sweet black coffee served with two spoons full of  arguments .

Accompanied by muffled music of halfhearted strings, half-truths, told and untold lies ,

the drops silently left their random places and traveled to the sky .

I guess that’s when the sky became overcast

and  it began to drizzle .


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13 thoughts on “Early Morning

  1. Hey Tikulli, my last comment was brief because the poem was too good and did not know what to write…your poems are usually very graphical in description that one can almost see what you tell…keep penning such nice ones 🙂

    Like

  2. Ms. Tikuli,
    This poem is like a painting . . . rather more like a film: complete in its indirect suggestiveness. Thank you for the beauty.
    peace,
    mickey morgan
    Karma Press

    Like

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