I am something of a leaky cup.
\nSomething I should have thrown away,
\ninto a barrel, a bag,
\nbut I push myself back in the corner,
\nbring myself out for tea,
\nand repeat the process,
\nleaks and all, c\u2019est la vie!
\nIt is not what I hoped,
\nbut it serves its purpose.
\nI miss nothing.
\nI come on the parade and wave my flag.<\/p>\n
I go back and ask the sky,
\nhave you fallen yet?
\nYou\u2019re invisible so how am I to know?
\nHave I died?
\nOr do I continue?
\nBetter to have died.
\nAnswers anyone?
\nDo you know something the river doesn\u2019t know?
\nDoes the sun obey your orders?
\nCome up on time to suit your clock?<\/p>\n
I, as I say, make tea.
\nPour a decade of dreams to a cup
\nand steep until ready.
\nThen I drink dreams, write poems.
\nLook at the wall and make myself up.
\nIt has been thus for a long time.
\nTwo oaks in succession have died in my yard,
\nand I planted a maple.
\nIt will stay with me long enough.<\/p>\n
As I said, one more poem
\nuntil my little scale of things
\nweighs as much as the air.
\nNight leaves a signature in disappearing ink,
\nand I drink the last few lifetimes away.
\nA cup of tea,
\nbrewed with a wild desire
\nto have one more affair with the world,
\nbefore it goes in the trash.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I am something of a leaky cup. Something I should have thrown away, into a barrel, a bag, but I push myself back in the…<\/p>\n