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Tea Kettle





A copper tea kettle whistles on a freshly stoked woodstove, announcing "Time for cheer; 'tis tea time!" 

But none hears. It waits, shrilling out invitation, begging to serve. It shakes and jumps. And then it quietens. 

The drink it would have offered dissipates, joining the faded smoky stillness of the abandoned livingroom, where but a few moments before held every thing, everyone, needed to make it a room for the living and for beauty. 

Blackness grabs at the the undersides of the kettle. Scorched patterns rise up its barren body. It cracks, then explodes into a useless vessel unable to ever hold water again. The fire submits, too, at last accepting that there are none left. None left at all to tend and feed and cherish.

Comments

  1. I love reading your writing-I feel you express your thoughts in a very creative, open and incredibly deep manner. I have never heard someone express things the way you do and so I always come back to your blog for more. You make me think and consider things I never have before (like living without a SSN) and working as an Au Pair. I lived your article on Boundaries and really appreciate hearing that there are others out there who don’t buy into the concept so completely.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oh, this was such an encouraging comment for me... thank you for sharing!! I hope to continue to share writing that will inspire and encourage you. It's wonderful knowing there are people that enjoy my soul ;)
      (Hope you have lots of babies without ssns!! Best thing ever!)

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  2. I am so sorry my comment published three times-how obnoxious! I hope you can delete some of them because I don’t seem to have that ability.

    ReplyDelete

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