TEA
http://www.maverickmagazine.com/articles/280/1/TEA----/Page1.html
Miriam N. Kotzin
Miriam N. Kotzin teaches Literature and Creative Writing at Drexel University in Philadelphia, PA. Her poems have appeared in print in, among others Boulevard, Mid-American Review, Southern Humanities Review and Iron Horse Literary Review. Online her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Small Spiral Notebook, Three Candles, Word Riot, For Poetry, and Xaxx. By Miriam N. Kotzin
Published on 07/16/2004
As she walked I heard a sigh
of silk. Her high heeled sandals
clicked across the floor. And then
she stopped, and when she turned she
of silk. Her high heeled sandals
clicked across the floor. And then
she stopped, and when she turned she
As she walked I heard a sigh
of silk. Her high heeled sandals
clicked across the floor. And then
she stopped, and when she turned she
laughed as though she'd found something
amusing in what she'd heard.
" I wish you both all joy," she
said. "He is all you could want."
And then without waiting for
an answer or saying good-
bye, she opened the door to
the hall, blew a kiss, and left
me to clear up all the mess
of tea, to address what she'd
said without her to listen
or explain, but then I knew
what she'd meant; of course, she
knew me, what I'd say, had
no need to hear even a word
of it. I heard the doorbell
ring, but I didn't move to
answer her. You can imagine
my heart racing. And I sat
and stared at the set table
while the doorbell rang, three
short rings. " She has no right," I
said to the air. I picked up
her cup, swallowed all she had
left of the pale tea, like gold
water, cold, slightly bitter.
In the bottom, a few tea
leaves, to me, meaningless now.
Copyright © Miriam N. Kotzin, 2004. All Rights Reserved.
of silk. Her high heeled sandals
clicked across the floor. And then
she stopped, and when she turned she
laughed as though she'd found something
amusing in what she'd heard.
" I wish you both all joy," she
said. "He is all you could want."
And then without waiting for
an answer or saying good-
bye, she opened the door to
the hall, blew a kiss, and left
me to clear up all the mess
of tea, to address what she'd
said without her to listen
or explain, but then I knew
what she'd meant; of course, she
knew me, what I'd say, had
no need to hear even a word
of it. I heard the doorbell
ring, but I didn't move to
answer her. You can imagine
my heart racing. And I sat
and stared at the set table
while the doorbell rang, three
short rings. " She has no right," I
said to the air. I picked up
her cup, swallowed all she had
left of the pale tea, like gold
water, cold, slightly bitter.
In the bottom, a few tea
leaves, to me, meaningless now.
Copyright © Miriam N. Kotzin, 2004. All Rights Reserved.