The Chipped Cup
Thu, 15 Mar 2018
The Chipped Cup She sings a lullaby sweet Purchased on an impulse On Camden Street (A leap towards the hip?) Now her bottom is stained Reaping the harvest of Coffee- Noir. The fading blooms A pastel shade of rue. My chipped cup laments A bygone era. Though the future Is aromatic still- Jasmine and Rose-Hip brew.