I stir my coffee with a sticky spoon,
feel the grit of sugar where my wrist
rests on the table. Big clouds loom,
push eastwards and then turn to mist.
A rain shower comes and goes.
Customers shake umbrellas and rain
coats in the doorway of this sad café.
In the steam, a small biplane stutters
and starts to fall. I catch it in the sugar
spoon and give the clouds another stir.
Kim M. Russell, 22nd April 2019
Shay is our host today, substituting for Anmol with an assignment for the class. She would like us to choose one of the images she has provided and write a poem about whatever the image says to us.