On the Balcony

Toast
& strawberry jam,
bit of butter,
3 cups of coffee,
and the latest
poetry journal.
The smell of burnt toast
and scorched coffee
smells like morning.
The balcony is nice
this morning,
despite dead plants
left in pots from summer.
Spring is nearly over
and neglect is everywhere,
my time consumed by
words.
The jam is sweet and
the hum of an idling car
distracts from the peace.

Notes

Written September 1998 in Tulsa, Oklahoma.

Brian Fuchs, “On the Balcony” from Scissor-tailed Flycatcher (Scissortail Press, 2020)