Waiting for the Shiny Coin

I stand at the kitchen window as tears roll down my

weary face. I watch trees in the distance dance to the light

of the day. They yearn to quench thirst and wait only for the

rain. Yet another teardrop wakes into the kitchen drain.

Sorrow has me tied to the base of my human frame. All those whiskey

tainted words that I never meant to say. I saw you leave your beauty

on the corner of Time Square. It glowed momentarily like the

sun off your golden hair. Then a beggar plucks your light off the beaten