Tea Set
Savoring warm weather
in a November afternoon
is like squeezing the flavor
from a teabag
Knowing it won’t be reused
like a rebound love affair
that can’t live up
to the real thing
The sun drips down
draining light from the sky
like a pinched rosy cheek
turning pale
I tip the spouted pot
like a fat waning moon
pour the last of summer nectar
gone cold
_____Colleen Redman / Imaginary Gardens with Real Toads
November 16th, 2014 11:07 am
Nice!!
November 17th, 2014 7:01 am
I like.
November 17th, 2014 8:55 am
That simile with the tea-bag is wonderful… though here in Sweden it does not apply for November.
November 17th, 2014 2:03 pm
What a gorgeous poem – so well-balanced, with the perfect comparison and words to evoke the last days of the season.
November 17th, 2014 3:53 pm
You captured it so well. Lovely
November 17th, 2014 9:38 pm
That last line turned this poem into a nightmare for me. I have no idea why this poem disturbs me the way it does.
November 17th, 2014 9:58 pm
All I can say is the tea went dark and cold and the last drop was like a droplet of blood. I was thinking about blood as lifeline. I’ll have to think more about it.
November 18th, 2014 2:50 pm
I love all the images you compare to November. The first stanza with the teabag is brilliant.
November 19th, 2014 9:05 pm
“All I can say is the tea went dark and cold and the last drop was like a droplet of blood. I was thinking about blood as lifeline.”
You know, I think my mind connected cold drop of blood with death since “living” blood would be warm.
November 19th, 2014 9:36 pm
Yes, death was in there too via winter. I appreciated your comment and do think the last line is kind of creepy, not clear and may not work as is, but the moment or inspiration has passed.
November 19th, 2014 11:04 pm
I think good poetry always strikes a cord inside you in someway. This was a good poem and the fact that it disturbed me proves it.
December 31st, 2015 4:11 pm
I just changed it. Maybe will again. Tweak Tweak.