The Truth of Tea & Sympathy


The kettle is always on around here
Questions creep to boiling point
then release with the click, time’s up
Flavours bleed out from a hot splash
clear water now marbled with tea stains
muddied by the white, one lump or two?
Heads and hearts stirred eagerly within
a whirlpool steeped in porcelain
And it’s as though answers can be found
at the bottom of the cup
so with pursed lips and loose tongues
we drink the infusion, mouths open
to the nourishment of warm milk
and steaming froth that sits on top
All at once we know the truth of tea
and sympathy is never hard to swallow


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