Friday, September 21, 2007

Where I Left My Coffee

21 September 2007, 7:06 AM

You’re there typing, and I
stand here watching, wondering
where you came from. I don’t know
if there’s anything I could have done
to deserve this solace,
if deserving even falls within
the calculation, or if life unfolds this way
for each of us, revealing
what we’ve longed for most only
when we cease to search so madly.
But I’ll take this quiet moment,
when the day has only just begun and you
are too absorbed in writing to notice
that I’m watching, admiring, loving you
from the kitchen counter, wondering
where on earth I’ve left my coffee.

3 comments:

Michelle McCallum said...

beautiful, simply beautiful. You brought tears to my eyes.

Michelle McCallum said...

I've linked to this poem on my blog. I had to share it. So beautiful.

audrey said...

I love this poem!!! I love the profound thoughts about having such a wonderful person in your life all within the context of something mundane such as wondering where you left your coffee.

George MacDonald

"Home is ever so far away in the palm of your hand, and how to get there it is of no use to tell you. But you will get there; you must get there; you have to get there. Everybody who is not at home, has to go home."

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