8:05 AM

Reads: 211  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A poem inspired by a situation experienced in high school.

Submitted: July 25, 2007

A A A | A A A

Submitted: July 25, 2007



The smell of decaf coffee floats down the hall.
There on his desk, it idly waits to be used.
The room sits empty, the sun just barely peeking
Under the half raised shades.

The sound of keys, clashing against each other
Ring out in the corridor.
He smiles as he enters, placing a hand on my arm
To say hello.

Taking a moment to settle in, he takes a sip
From the cup and closes his eyes to enjoy
The warmth.
He plays with papers, to look busy. Teasing them.
Shuffle, shuffle, tap tap, pile.
Shuffle, shuffle, tap tap pile.

I watch quietly, thoughts squirming,
Climbing over one another.

He nods as if his work complete.

Our eyes meet.
We never look back
Until what is, is what's past.


© Copyright 2017 IvyWinter. All rights reserved.

Booksie 2017-2018 Short Story Contest

Booksie Popular Content

Other Content by IvyWinter


Short Story / Non-Fiction

His Lips: A Free Write

Short Story / Non-Fiction

She Had To Be Beautiful

Short Story / Other

Popular Tags