A Brief Note On Summer And Tea
Bad weather always goes green.
A foot in the water churns mud in a stream.
A kettle screams rage in thrusting steam.
Oh, for the cool dip of summer!
Oh, the warm comforts of tea!
Oh, how some gentle gestures
ripple contrary the current,
fog the kitchen mirror,
and blind like muddied trout
the weathers boil on the rolling plain
curling breaths into fists on the shore
hurling oak onto the fire door.