she peels an apple
the paring knife slicing
long red ribbons
that fall on the counter.
I lick my thumb
turn the page.
there’s a faint hint of wood smoke,
logs pop
in the fireplace.
I drink the last
of my coffee.
my hand shakes
just a little
and she tells me what she has
planned for the day
Poetry
Sunday Morning
Larry is rolling towards geezerhood with a smile on his face. He has been everything from a door to door vacuum cleaner salesman to a restaurant owner. He currently works in real estate. His one true love has always been literature and he is thrilled to be writing poetry. He hopes you enjoy.
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