Endless Breakfast

Endless Breakfast – 27 Sept. 2015


Let us breakfast eternally

In the Sunday sun on the balcony

As if it were our last


And drink mimosas and Irish coffee

From presses and bottles that fill endlessly

They’ll just know—we’ll never ask.


And we’ll nip and nibble, and perhaps we’ll speak

Though there’s no more we ned to say

When our mouths were empty we filled them with words

Some sweet, or bitter, of every taste.


And we chewed them, and reviewed them

And washed them down with wine

In the evenings of our young tongues

In the dancing drunk sublime.


We had thirst and we had hunger

We drank when we were cold

We were young to come together

But together we’ve grown old.


And too not age of mind.

It’s a taste for us together.

For our ripeness.
For our time.


The table has grown longer

Though we still can reach across,

And taste each other’s fingers,

Before they spoil or go lost.


The table will grow wider—

Not of spite and not of hate—

Merely by what we’ve ordered:

We’ve developed different tastes.


Let us break fast, and break it clean

Before we grow too full

Before the clouds swallow our morning sun

And the storms begin to roll


Let us love our meals together

Let us drink to our own health

Let us love what we have come to

And how we’ve marked ourselves


Let us savor what we have tasted

And it not fade into the past

Let this breakfast be eternal

For it must be our last.