Tea & Poetry #2

As promised! Enjoy.

May You Always be the Darling of Fortune

BY jane miller

March 10th and the snow flees like eloping brides

into rain. The imperceptible change begins

out of an old rage and glistens, chaste, with its new

craving, spring. May your desire always overcome

your need; your story that you have to tell,

enchanting, mutable, may it fill the world

you believe: a sunny view, flowers lunging

from the sill, the quilt, the chair, all things

fill with you and empty and fill. And hurry, because

now as I tire of my studied abandon, counting

the days, I’m sad. Yet I trust your absence, in everything

wholly evident: the rain in the white basin, and I

vigilant.

Arboreal

I am lost in the forest.
The natives tell me the sharks roam amongst the trees here.
At first I was surprised, but I can hear wind
passing through gills when I hold my breath.
Just now I saw a glint among the leaves,
but I do not believe it was a fin.
The forest is a fishy place, no doubt.
But if I do get eaten by a shark,
at least in the process I
will be choking on the scent of pines.

The Plastic Bag

BY JULIE CHEN

I see the sun tinting the brightening sky

The first birds chirping on branches up high

An old man ambling with his loyal greyhound

As the cautious canine sniffs at the ground

But what catches my eyes is a plastic bag

Swirling in the wind like a waving flag

Embraced by the leaves in its playful dance

Touching the smooth sidewalks with graceful prance

The bag chases the wind down silent lanes

Shivering with pleasure as it apes a plane

Gliding through the horizon with pure delight

Freedom had come into its longing sight

So I chase the bag and join its escape

And savor the touch of the breeze in its pace

And the sun gives the bag a halo of gold

Like candlelight against freshly fallen snow

But suddenly, my feet stop in their tracks

As I see a girl reach to extend her grasp

to close her fingers on the plastic bag

and stuff it in the trash like a battered old rag

And my smile slowly leaks off my mouth

The freedom of the bag has disappeared, without

Even a good-bye into the dark abyss

Of the trashcan and its sullied black lips

I feel a sour numbness drench my cheeks

As I realize its future was hopelessly bleak

For no matter how bright your brilliance be

If beholders are blind it cannot be seen.