Wanted each frame to sound like Haiku, for fragmented meaning to sound like an old man, for mystery to arise in the commonplace.

 For Each Other, Tea

Say the Chinese:

What is told becomes known

At the expense of other stories

That remain silent

So it is with Mary:

Wife of many years

Nary a poem of peace

But many of grand ire

Let it be known:

She makes me tea

I make her tea

She makes me tea

She prepares fire:

I rub her feet

She launders my clothes

I paint her portrait

While mountains quiver:

Her gaze alert as puma

Reflected clearly, I am

In her eyes, tranquil

Like those of Byzantium:

Their words, more alive than they

From our dusty chests,

So many journals of pain

If you get there

before me, she says

But her words blow

Away.  I am there

Please understand, reader:

She makes tea for me

I make tea for her

For each other, tea