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The Tea Is Done
Sabaz
The kettle's bloodcurdling scream every morning,
Breaks the silence of the house and my mind,
Two cups on the granite, anxious to be filled,
Clueless to what brings forth the clamor of the day.
Damn it! The teabag spills its guts in the hot water,
Portents of discontent, nothing left to weep for.
False promises to myself, of leaving any day,
But finding the morning's lull interrupted,
By the maddening hiss of the kettle again.
Back to Inaugural Issue - Spring 2011
Acrylic on canvas: Hillarree Hamblin, First Stage, 2010, 36 x 48 in.