Coffee Beans
M
Mark Heathcote
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I have looked, longer than I have gazed
without seeing
how many shadows snuck beneath my soles.
Without a Judas, look back.
God has given me a handful of coffee beans.
I don't know what to do with them.
But discard them.
God has given me a life, should I be grateful-
or ask his leave.
Quivering on a branch, we are all coffee leaves.
In the acquiescence-of-a death upheld green.
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş