Lazy afternoon sun
Keeps me at the doorway
Mug in hand
Sipping rose hip tea
Allowing it to seep into taste buds
Breaking contact
To gaze at stilled umber water
grounding
my body in warmth
As floral powder holds a hint of dirty
Spice
I dip a paintbrush in—
splatter it across smooth white paper
In one
S w e e p i n g motion
Holding still as tea drips from paper to ground,
Mesmerized by the way you dry
into indents
Little dull craters, time-stamped ridges
Against a blinding white
A view that I hold and
R I P
Into two halves
As the sun disappears into the moon
A hint of rose.
An empty cup sits
Cold
With no where to go.
About the Creator
Michele Nampalli
This space is breath for my sensitivity. The poems come fully formed. I've known for quite some time now that my art is about receiving more than creation...its the most natural way I know to process my inner world. It started when I was 7.
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