Crazy how some writings you can recall clearly where and why you wrote it. I was working in car sales at the time and sometimes sitting and waiting is part of the job. The desk was one of those tan, faux woodgrain desks found in anytown USA. My coffee cup sat in front of me and caught my eye and I just felt a kinship in its patient waiting much as I was doing in the early morning. That building and dealership isn't even there anymore but I still remember it quite well.
October 9th, 2010?
The cup..
Silent, sits.
Sentinel,
In its fascination,
At its surroundings.
Empty.
Waiting...
Like an immigrant on the corner,
For the first offer of work that day to be filled by?
The unknown..
It's just a cup.
No meaning...
But it mocks me!
Knowing at this moment ,
We are the same..soulmates.
Empty in our resolve..but,
The cup has fulfilled its reason for the day...
While I have yet to..
We are at rest,
The cup and I..
Waiting.
It commands my movement!
I resist..
It watches me..
I stare back..
Metaphoric in its moment..
Waiting.
Sentinel,
Sits silent..
The cup..
Peace
About the Creator
Victor Mendez
Born in 1958.There's a lot of road beneath these feet.Worn out pairs upon pairs of shoes.Been a ranch kid,a city kid,a Marine,a dad, a grandfather now,an avid reader and just recently began writing poetry in 2015 just to vent.
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