Cold Morning Coffee

The clock blinks red 6:34. I hear the creak

of the kitchen floor. You left your boots by the backdoor last night.

And now they're gone and so are you, out of sight. The frost on

the window's still clinging tight. But your warmth faded with the morning light.

Cold morning coffee in an empty cup. Your goodbye hit me like a

semi-truck. No, no, no words, just the wind

through the trees. And a heart that's breaking on its knees. Cold morning coffee,

it's all I've got. Still steaming, but you're not. Your flannel shirt