Wild Colors, Empty Teapot

Wild colors, empty teapot

…in Zocalo coffeehouse, Courtenay, BC

She wears wild, laughing colors,
sitting alone behind an empty teapot
writing in a stylish pad, to whom…?  and
despite their boast of happy times, those wild colors
sing of a familiar loneliness ensconced
behind the walls of her portly body.

Highlights in her once-red hair
still beckon — to no avail
as another coffeeshop day unfolds, and
alone behind an empty teapot
she writes, to whom…?

But her wild colors, chosen early
in the silence of her solitary morning,
provide windows for a soul to gaze
toward horizons of elusive satisfaction,
toward a sweet lover’s shadow
toward that point where the
bluebird of happiness flew into a cloud
toward that fabled paradise
such a long way from the heaviness
which anchors her here, today,
behind an empty teapot.

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