Tea
with Lemon
Sitting in a stuffy
chair
I sip my cup of melancholy tea,
smile and speak my sweet replies,
dream between in quiet sighs
of winding streets at dusk,
of fog and lights contained.
Tea
with lemon, tea with silence.
then, a cup and saucer rattle
calls back her distant face.
Another word of subtle grace
through thinly parted lips and tea,
again, that lemon taste.