Raindrops in
a cold cup of tea
A few spiteful raindrops slip down
and spit into a cold cup of tea.
The china: thin and pretty
Chinks like a glass slipper on a marble step
Disrupting the week long silence
The party is long over.
No one’s collected in the plates
The table still laid
Is laden with uneaten cake.
A snail crawls up a
table leg
As if he might see where they’ve gone
And unseen, creeping in, is a setting green mould
About to be washed away by rain
That dribbles into half-drunk cups of tea,
Now gone cold.
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