Thursday, May 02, 2013

Sweet Margaret


When the silence comes
across me,
it is like a flood,
deep and blue,
taking me under
for hours.
The cup of tea,
the one on my desk,
sits beside me,
hot and foamy,
a constant friend
to ease my journey.
It will be there
when I come up for air,
cold and hard,
all the sweet honey
settled to the bottom,
stuck in one place,
like my grandmother
in her coffin.

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