poem~Bourbon Brunch

Bourbon Brunch

Seats by the window
tomorrow’s opinions
we clink our glasses at
a sunny bourbon brunch
asking the day to
whisky-glassesbring thoughts not promises
tiny table full
of eggs toast emotions
you twirling the
salt shaker round and round
my finger dipping
and bobbing ice cubes in my glass
food sips
melodic silence spilling
down our chins
hidden smiles
behind napkins.

Nikki Lockhart

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