Poem: Steeping

Creative Commons photo.

My latest original five-line poem.


drop me in hot water like a teabag.
let me steep; my ashes dispersing
and dissolving away to nothingness
from which I came, hanging onto
a tether meant to ensnare me here.

3 thoughts

  1. I used to drink tea all I time (Red rose was my favorite); I’d let it stew and drink it really dark, so I like the “Steeping” metaphor, and the overall piece, which I feel is sad (it makes me think of empty death) and well-executed.

    Liked by 1 person

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