child’s love offering—
 
a drooping dandelion
 
in a sippy cup

Advertisements

 
 
 

Second week of spring—
 
the tea in my cup stays hot
 
for almost an hour.

 
 
 

Last day of the month—
 
more rain is in the forecast,
 
more tea in my cup.

Cup

 
 
 

Left out in the rain,
 
a tiny espresso cup
 
soon fills to the brim.

Cup

 
 
 

Into my cracked cup
 
I pour fresh tea each morning
 
and again at dusk.

Cold

 
 
 

Little brown sparrow,
 
the tea in my cup grows cold—
 
warm me with your song.

Tea

 
 
 

boiling spring water
 
for a cup of evening tea—
 
the monk’s hand trembles