The Zeal of Chamomile

A life worth the effort

Photo by Kelly Aluna Martone — author

The rickety chair sat full of her old bones,
branches for her draping skin;
wrinkled fabric of her soul
Tired, she thought
as she took a sip from the china teacup
that she held tightly together;
the moon wrapping around the sea

A longing fermata —
light lit from within

Flowers delicately painted,
but faded now
Fingerprints — sponges of time,
smudging the days into smoke,
drinking the memories you spoke
Edging closer to see the leaves swirling,
she scoops a teaspoon of clouds

Trembling hand rippling
what is left
Cold at the bottom
with undissolved sugar;
stars sticking together in a foggy sky,
dissipating into what could have been

shaking, splashing, spilling
Dreams soaking into the ground