Tea for Two

Quarter to 7 in the morning

Waiting for the kettle to boil

She keeps busy at the sink

Washing last night’s dinnerware

Her silhouette is visible from the hall’s entrance

The movements of her arms synchronize in tempo

To the music of the clinking glasses and running water

A beautiful symphony of sorts

As plates stand tall and bowls are squashed

Space is getting smaller on the drying rack

A little pause, one little sigh and

The music continues to warm the chilly air

Something’s missing

Gleeful chatters? Quiet giggles? Bantering tones?

Then as the kettle puffs steamy white clouds

Everything stops

She straightened her shoulders while turning back

A pair of sparkling wet eyes fresh with tears

Ruddy cheeks against a pale wash canvas

Lips quivering red and bleeding

She inhales slowly, willing her heartbeat to be regular

Her hands swiftly clear away

the evidence of emotions

She grabs two mismatched mugs with icy grip

Walking towards the doorway she clears her throat

Across the hall her voice fills the emptiness

“Would you like some tea?”



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