Jun 25 2017

MORNING MELANCHOLY by Alec Trivass

the morning air, still cold from night
brings sounds and smells. and cold grey light
lights up the fading pattern on the wall.
the household is awakening
to the rattle and clink of breakfast things,
for the milkman has made his call.
the milkman softly urged his horse
that pulled the drey with graceful force,
unbidden, his horse made the scheduled stops.
alas, familiar things don’t last
and soon become the quaint things of the past
replaced by supermarket shops.
AND WHERE’S THE ROMANCE IN THAT?

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