I weave no positive, unchipped china
Words today.
Morning poured bitter tea.
I drank from a cracked cup.
Thirst plaited danger in braids
Of thought...no pretty bowed
Endings...not yet.
With lovely dawn flaps hope
For Evening.
Perhaps night will be in
My corner.
Now circles demons dark
Around these eyes...
And I laugh. Drink, sip.
Demons are demons
Beaten once...
Soon, twice.
Today. Tomorrow.
elysabeth faslund
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/porcelin-china-demons-of-morning/
