Poem #133

Pouring Tea

Gold liquid back lit,
by the sunshine coming
and going behind frozen clouds,
forms a glowing pillar above
the dandelion surface
braided first then,
as the flow slows,
a cylinder becomes wavy
as impact climbs up the column
back into the teapot.

Three to four minutes before
at one hundred eighty degrees,
the clear water divided
balls of rolled leaves,
half on top, others below
slowly breathing, curling
into the space between,
regenerating their sun-capturing
plant form, but only
in appearance while rays
fell on deaf cells and shimmered
like old bronze door knobs.