Too Late

Never forget to rest, to look, to wonder. It makes life all the richer.

Image result for steaming tea painting

Too Late

My tea, too hot
to sip, rests in its cup
near an old book

steaming with forgotten rhymes,
spells I’ll wield
so that I might better fathom

the nervousness of birds,
translate their itch and twitch,
like the jay perched

on an oak branch
that almost scratches
the window near the table

where my tea cools,
the jay that I assume
is twittering

drink, drink before
it’s too late.


In part, inspired by today’s WordPress Daily Prompt.


2 thoughts on “Too Late

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