Weaving Unweaving
Days when he is on the road Tis clockwork as swisswatch Penny will ring to say She made clear coffee again– Tho others call it hot water. That’s cause he makes the moka When he’s home In the morning for them both A habitual ritual For warding off Last night’s ghosts & vap’rous– Shades. Comes to pass He travels East To sell his tchotchke to the Crowd– Then Pen wends her way Into the quiet clean-kept kitchen Eyes the implements suspiciously Thus they are arrayed for rites. She does her best Remembering steps, But the skein is more her forte Warp & woof or weft to wane A well wrought web Thus tells the tale Takes up her mind with tangled thots Meanwhile the moka Burbles over on the range. Quick she lifts it from its flame Pours a heaping steaming cup: Clear as mountain streams it tis Having again forgot the grounds. He laughs later When she rings him Long distance in the motel room Regales him with her bespoke blunder Signature Penny left alone– Ties a common tongue between them Old luv lengua soft as knots Says no matter what the distance Separate threads ravel the whole.
At least it comes with plenty of sugar
Ooooh