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Poetry
by
M. B. Baldwin

writing

  Cold Coffee

 We used to meet here over coffee and donuts,
 talking and laughing for hours at a time
 about nothing in particular.

 Now we in silence sit here
 and stare at one another
 wondering what to say.

 We sat so long today
 my coffee has grown cold and bitter.
 There is nothing left of my donut but crumbs.

 Words from yesterday spoken like promises
 hold no meaning now
 Like strangers we can talk about the weather
 or politics or business trends
 but there is no emotion.

 We used to have passion,
 but now we have only dissension.
 Most of the time
 we do not even smile.

 Perhaps I will just finish my coffee
 and fold the donut crumbs into my napkin
 and go home.

coffee

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