The Coffee Stain
One slip of the hand The mind is distracted by its marching band There’s coffee all over the desk On the notebook, such a mess It was pure white Now it looks a sight Dirty and brown Like the mud in the ground Thou shall not get mud everywhere Definitely not in one's hair For then one is a little pig A little pig, wearing a dirty wig The love of touching the earth It feels like a rebirth The worms and twigs Lifetimes ago, on imaginary digs At the end of the land Alone with the mud and sand Imagination comes to light So far out of sight Digging for treasure In a far-off land of pleasure There’s no time In the land of the imaginary mind Written by Zoe Langman 21st March 2023