Saturday, February 23, 2013

How Would You Draw the Way Memory Slips Out and In

after she washed out the teapot
she couldn't remember what it was for 

standing in the cold pink light of early morning
her robe hanging open
her bare feet numb on the linoleum

cradling the clean teapot in her chapped hands


while her brain shifts slightly
left, then right

oh yes

she proceeds to make herself
a pot of tea