Member-only story
POETRY
Teacup on a Train
Read the leaves
they will tell their story
how the rain fell on their mountain plantation
that year while they were wild and green
on the plant, clapping together in an afternoon wind
the kind that can cool deep porches and
sweeten blessed southern shade
clinking over ice with a squeeze of lemon
Let the leaves speak
and they will leave a story on the tip
of your tongue about the haste and soot
of a busy railway station, the sideways
shuffle to find a seat before the journey
lurches into motion and romance settles
like a reflection upon the sides of a once-precious cup
dreaming of its own arrival
Read the leaves
and hear them whisper about the perpetual twilight
where they swim at the bottom of an amber lake
telling fortunes long-faded in an empire
whose ships have all reached their final dock.
