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Alan Harris reading
Storm Tea
by Alan Harris
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Please, come on in. Those kerosene lamps, the ones by the windows, are flickering today. Listen to November's gale out there moaning through leafless trees and twisting off sickly limbs. The winterbeast clears its throat, eh? How did you make it through this windstorm that rattles my picture frames against the walls? And why are you here when no one else came? But never mind my questions-- welcome, then, to tea. Welcome, yes, to tea-- to tea from a pot I forgot I had in a far corner of the cupboard. Darjeeling today--I hope it's okay. How did you find my place-- not to mention why-- or, did what's here find you? Now here, have some sips and stay as long as you can, for the wind outdoors is surely fiercer than we. Beside wavering window lamps sit you and me and tea. Given everything, what else would there be? |
From the book Knocking on the Sky (1997-1998)
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