Tea Poems

enjoy...

FORECAST: HEADLONG WITH PATCHY HAZE

It's one of those days

where you eat two bagels

and a stack of pancakes

and hope everything

turns all right without

you doing anything

about it.

You think about doing the dishes.

You think about taking off.

You think about money

and continue signifying nothing.

Line up animal crackers:

count how many headless,

how many whole.

Was waking ill-advised?

Or adventurous, this cruel catching of the tiger

by its own cruel tail?

At least it's not the tongue you've got.

It's one of those days

where the tiger turns out

to be all tail, no teeth.

You pity it, briefly,

then breathe. Thank whatever stars

or starlike beings you see fit to thank.

Root idly among the counter rubbish

to see if there's a bagel number three.

There isn't.

Make tea.

 

TEA SONG

If only I could brew a tea

strong enough to empty me

of every fear and self-rebuke,

leave me steeped

in passion, will, and truth.

If only I were strong enough

my tears might turn to steam

and set me shining, dew-draped, free.

O, to simmer myself

a bolder smile,

a warmer room,

and quieter miles

to go before I sleep.