I awakened to the silence
of the dawn

poured some honey-flavored tea
into the porcelain cup

from which you drank
so long ago

Embracing it, my hands
absorbed its warmth

as memories of you
swiftly rose from the place

where shadows meet the rising sun.
Then, I heard the teapot whistling,

and the cold hands of reality
numbed my senses...


c. Douglas Fireman