Martin Swords - Breakfast for One

Breakfasts were special.
Two plates.
Two eggs.
Together.

Cup and saucer.
Egg and spoon.
Salt and pepper.

Kind people ask.
I cannot tell.
There are no words.
At breakfast

One plate is lonely.
The egg is spoiled.

No pepper.
I never liked it.

Only the salt is set.
Only the sharp taste.





Martin Swords
April 2008

Martin Swords

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/breakfast-for-one-2/