Pomegranate — Poetry with bits in!

Tea Making

by and published in Edition Nine of Pomegranate

In this conker pot days consolidate themselves,
at five after slog and a fast walk home,
to a slam of the door, a rustle through carpet;
a tap gush and a rushing, the clipped finite.

A long sigh drawn out that expires
in silence, thin china is fingered from shelves,
a crystal pool spins, deepens in shadow,
the charmed pot chimes with spoon and lid.

Three minutes, four, a search for biscuits
or cake in a grease paper sleeve,
a book or magazine propped up on the stove,
the stained strainer found and rinsed

now a golden dance into milk,
now a setting down and a divining.

James Wilcox

James Wilcox lives in Leeds and is currently having some time off academia to write and pay off his overdraft. He has been included in Cadaverine and theScribe magazine and makes regular appearances at open mike nights, workshops and readings. His writing interests are wide, but themes tend to include love, violence, the act of writing itself and moments of transcendence that disrupt the everyday.

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