Saturday, October 1, 2011


After tea I wait
in flickering light
in the drone of what had been cicadas.

Two cats
and their cadence of grooming
lapsing into a brindled sleep

while I wait porous
for what was already there.


L. Blogspeak, M.D. said...

Cha Sen -

I found your picture, accenting your poem, "Waiting," to be at once compelling, beautiful and haunting.


Anonymous said...

She pauses to entertain my whispers,cooing.The motion of the hand,the pour has her gaze.Tea for you,Two Black?The feral cat,silent hunter moves on.