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Empty Paper Cups

i do not wish to be great,
to turn and bow on the final stage.
i have no desire to be the train,
just a common plank on the track.

i do not brandish light for the blind,
i walk among shadows without a noise.
my name could be key, wellhouse, or pump...
my voice the sound of a sparrow hatched.

i taste like old trees,
and rain falling from a rusted gutter.
i've had long conversations with dogs,
walked window ledges with cats.

i know the stories of old tires,
i've hung my hat on rusted nails.
i pray in the moonlight with spiders,
and sing praises to the ants.

i am the lick of the tongue,
the bent finger stroking your eyes.
i come rushing like the wind,
leaving stray leaves and empty paper cups!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Added by Poetry Lover
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