A Second Reading of The Book of Tea
For Forrest Hamer

Waiting to spring as upright as a reed,
As green to any movement in the wind,
And taking clear creek-water for my bride,
Being soothed aroused, by her movement, her sound
As soundlessness—defined a ragged edge
For time, my own face blurring in the pool,
Sad-foolish, every cloud the day could fledge
Carrying every thought I'd learned in school
Away—Where'd I go wrong, and what relief
Might I extract, where water boils up
Cold from the earth, to touch the fallen leaf—
Kneeling, I make my hands into a cup,
As though to learn about thirst, hard to slake,
And hold them, empty, still, above the creek—

 

Poems by Jamie Irons: