Tea
Foraging for H&B, organic nettle brew.
Steep, breathe in the rising steam
silence broken by a cu-coo.
The cuckoo is unfit to parent.
Nest parasite: pushes out nestlings,
serving its own insatiable hunger.
My cup clips the saucer, dislodging that thought
As the steam rises again, soft and persistent,
as if it knows the world will keep turning.
Even though we live in Tower times, unnecessarily cruel.
Like the gilded figure who shouts, “Build walls!”
Oblivious to the cracks. The world spins forward.
even when it feels like we’re turning back.
So I sip the nettle brew,
bitter and green—
and let the steam carry what I can’t hold.
