And brew and brew
Like tea gone dark and thick
And then after so much of wondering,
should I should I not
I will up and leave
And call it being instinctive.
As if it was always
there in me to do
To up and leave on a whim
As if I had not thought
About all of this
Over time, all the time, sipping it through.
The dregs of tea still lingering in
My mouth, the after-taste of bitterness
Of an over cooked liquor,
Even as I set forth
Once more, and it begins to rain.
I stick my tongue out and
The taste lightens, maybe this time
I will stay where I come to, a place
Of belonging it will be for me
But I have thought so, so many times
And this time may be no different.
I may still arrive, survive and ponder,
Drink tea, brew it thick,
Then move, leaving the dregs in my wake,
Mixing with the fallen leaves of a tree
that gave me shelter for a while.
Forming humus, breathing life on
a forever forgiving earth,
The only place I may embrace.