New Year

Sometimes … tea … is all you can do.

O at the Edges

tea
New Year

How transparent you’ve become:
even the leaves blow through

your pockets, and penitents
line up, awaiting the latest word.

Those who have, fear the most.
Each day collapses under its own

weight, rising again into the new.
Surgery brooks no illusions;

this house, too, will fail.
Owning little, I pour tea and wait.

bench

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