When the room fills with light
And the scent of cinnamon
And my hands finally warm on my lap,
Then I gaze on the light
And its eventual shift into dullness,
Returning again with my breath.
Posts
‘The Look of Shame’
4 hours ago
Saturday, January 1, 2011
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2 comments:
Jade and ebony coolness, entrancing curved-brush patterns in bowl and tea surface. "So dawn goes down to day"?
Or a wayward branch blocks a beam of sunlight.
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