the queen of cherry

tea

has grown bitter

already,

brewed too long

like a vacation

ending too

suddenly,

suddenly but not bitterly,

only that is lost now

to the tapestry,

the bright red thread

of passion;

back to work

it goes,

we go,

you and i,

and last night there was that dream,

only the middle remains,

the hill top

and all the people,

and the lioness

making everyone run.

but me.

i heard the voice

and it said be still.

and so the lioness approached,

walking around me,

sniffing,

before going on her way.

the morning fog has lifted,

the church bells are ended,

and i think how i found you again

in september

and will lose you now

to october.

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