Tag: deep poetry

  • Tasseography

    Tired grow the eyes,
    yet hunger fills the dreams.
    Seconds dwindle daily
    while life’s leaves steep.
    Words I speak fairly, 
    
    “None too fair,  
    the lives we keep.” 
    
    In the bottom,
    the porcelain fine print, 
    you wonder of the tea.
    To smile sweet;
    just grudge on,
    or change indefinitely.