I feel so lost

as I put the kettle on

again.

The room is

a clean white

like fresh linen

and the walls are

quiet,

the warm winter air

humming

as always

only

with the ticking of

the clock and the

content little

murmur of bubbles

— hot and steamy

and so blissfully

unaware

of my affairs.

I pour

cup after cup after cup

of hot

infusions.

I must have had

a tubful

by now.

My favorite is

a blend called

“

Happy Mondays“

— it is made of

citrusy lemon and ginger

and cracked black pepper

and its bags

are bright

Orange and Warm

like

Energy and Life.

On them it says

“A Bag of Our

Happy Mondays

Infusion.”

Outside

one season blends

into the next

and flowers turn

to snow

and then

to flowers

again.

I sit and sip

and I boil

bag after bag

after bag.

I want so bad to

find myself

again

at the bottom of

each emptied cup.

I sip and

I wait

for all those Happy Mondays

to spill over the

brim

.