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A Cup of Rum Tea

The house is
so spare, so Zen.
at twilight,
the flakes plump
and soft.

Gwen is here,
once more.

We have been
not just tea, but
dark, rum tea;
so quirky,
for us.

She pushed her
chair aside,
and left.

I thought,
she is walking
--how wonderful—
on a journey
around the

Her hat
and coat
lay abandoned.