Tea Time
by Columbine
When winter's silent boots tread alongside
It's easy to appreciate this respite
Twinkling with ice-glazed buds and nameless stars
Resigned to fall when grace might such allow
This precious windbleached silence sparsely decked
With ornamental lights blown one by one
When husbands are satisfied with their wives
And wives less rueful of their optimism
The wind charitably drowns out rude words
Ill chosen, or ill timed, or ill conceived
And we who choose ourselves, strangely content
Deaf to the shouts and sobbing from upstairs
Soak up the vibrant flavor of a book
Or find contentment in the taste of tea
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