Leslie Harrison: "Tea"

Nearly dawn, I’m watching the trees
march out of night, surround again
this house; the dogs

twitch in final dreams; the stove—
this orange, unsteady heat and black iron box

breathes warm mirage into the cold,
into the sky; the yellow enamel teapot
does the same inside.

The tea leaves in their white paper pouch
in their skyblue mug—I’ve brewed thousands of cups

like this: wood house, wood fire, the woods
leaning out of the night, of their stubborn life,

the taste of leaves
hot on my tongue.



"Tea" by Leslie Harrison, from Displacement: Poems. © Mariner Books, 2009.

Photography credit: "Winter Dawn Through the Woods," by Steve Thompson, November 20, 2010.