Warmer

Entering the intersection chamber,
sound departs at the door frame.
Red warmth sets in, a few smiles,
and time trickles down to tea.

Triangular package of leafy life,
my sweetly chosen composition
whispers the story of a haunting-
the oh so reminiscent sort...

Familiar even in a fresh space,
unwise birds flock and chirp,
swinging their rocking-chair wings.
I am flustered into a fading act.

In this fair parlor, whose shades
almost make up for its shadows,
I sip away my sorrows
to the tune of a dreamer.

Fastened to stillness
but soaring within.


Jennifer Burnside