i drink tea and mourn you,

By Shebe Sardr

i drink tea and mourn you,  

the essence of cardamom  

capsizes between my knuckles  

and the wind chimes crash

into each other  

again  

and  

again —  

metal forgetting harmony  

the sky outruns 

the clouds lately,  

my eyes, overheated,  

still follow them  

only to end up  

stalled at the crumpled  

photograph  

pasted violently on  

the kitchen wall  

this time

a little too long.