Shiver and Wait

Editor’s Note:  Though far from the quality of Thom’s latest poems, here is a recent effort from my notebook.

Shiver and Wait

Some mornings I wake
to worried wishes.
I creep around to keep my
burdens out of my son’s dreams.

I shiver and kick
the cold heater’s old metal teeth.
I shiver and wait
for us both to shake off our sleep.

Another lonely coffee cup,
another lonely talk that will
end the same as yesterday

with mouth-stains on the rim.

And yet–
I still have
a cup to stain,
a heater to kick,
a son who dreams.