STARBUCKS LOVE POEM, Early Sunday Evening Sorrow, Edited

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STARBUCKS LOVE POEM,
Early Sunday Evening Sorrow,
Edited





Another early Sunday evening has arrived.

You, you are gone, abroad.
I sit all alone at Starbucks, drink coffee,
Instead of us sharing dinner together,
I write verse about how I miss you.

The notion, absence makes
The heart grow fonder, nonsense,
In my book no more than a hill of beans!

I am no fonder, fond of you, than I was
Ten minutes ago at the start of this poem.

I am no fonder of you today than yesterday,
Than last week, than weeks ago,
When you departed on business,
Left me in this big, old town, alone,
During that time, since then, my love,
My love has not an iota grown.

Tonight I am simply sad.
I am lonely.
I feel terrible without you.