Snapshots
I wish my eyes were like a camera
I could click a button and persevere the sight forever
A click at the way the steam dances off my morning coffee
Twirling its way up
And tickling my nose
And warmly caressing my cheek
Simply begging to be sipped
I could snap a whole album
On the way the frost crawls up
My window in the morning
It reaches its skinny crooked fingers up
Stretching and yawning
With the morning sun
The moonlight shining
On the drop of melted snow
Clinging the bare branch
One kiss of the wind and it would fall
I guess that's what memories are
The snapshots that are taken when
The poets are at their windows
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