Read Poem: Sunday Morning, by Brian Contreras

An old man sipped coffee so rich,
On a winter’s morn, a nostalgic pitch.
The antique mug warmed his sight,
As slushy steps danced in delight.
Musty air, stinging cold, a sensory glitch.

Author: poetryfest

Submit your Poetry to the Festival. Three Options: 1) To post. 2) To have performed by an actor 3) To be made into a film. View all posts by poetryfest