Floating in my cup of tea:
the bric-a-brac chunk leftovers
from the small scoop of flavorful dust
I stirred in, along with honey,
to give it an extra something
this zest, now unattractive —
no matter how tasty —
in its warm, gentle brown
swimming pool
a finer mix would have
disappeared,
become one with the
cream-kissed elixir
yet this one will not go so gently:
wryly it proclaims its presence
as if a little bit of the garden
had blown over the tea table
by an inexplicable gust of mid-morning
it wants to be seen
like leftover leaves, it wants to be read
its one final parting message
to the ever-refreshing world
On page 99 of Mary Oliver’s Poetry Handbook, she says “The poet must not only write the poem but must scrutinize the world intensely. . . ” Reading that line made me decide to spend a part of my writing day scrutinizing whatever stood out to me as a potential subject. My cup of tea came first! Tomorrow, I will share another. There are lot of poetry books that suggest this kind of exercise; no matter how often I do it, I find it rewarding – whether or not the poems it produces are amazing, I find the action of paying closer attention in general is a good habit to develop.
Thank you for reading!
The Poetry Patio 