deepundergroundpoetry.com

Whats for breakfast

Old slippers as they tread the stair  
watch for the cat, outstretched or standing  
ready to follow you to an empty bowl  
 she said good morning in a low meow  
the mirror of dishevelment  
not folded neat like the morning paper  
a crumpled packet filled with Quaker  
oats, to swell and fill each empty part  
a single setting and one cup
Written by slipalong
Published | Edited 5th Feb 2020
Author's Note
Exploration into Stevie Smiths style
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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