Pin It
Favorite

Poem: Slow 










I
envy
the slow
ones who take
their time to answer
especially the hard questions
questions with pain or need folded into them.
They know the tea will brew in the warm sun & the glass
won't crack, and if it does, well, of course it does. Dry curled
leaves in the little mesh bag will open themselves in the water. How
fat and smooth their leaves will billow (almost turning green again)
before letting out their sweet brown flavor. If you wait
you will taste it. But what about striking
while the iron is hot? What
iron? they say.
What's
hot?

Pin It
Favorite

Comments

Subscribe to this thread:

Add a comment

Readers also liked…

  • Poem: Pentecost

    A poem by Emily Vanston.
    • Dec 1, 2015
  • Poem: Symposium

    A poem by Stephanie Ann Slepian.
    • Jan 1, 2016

Hudson Valley Events

submit event
Summer Institute: Text and Context @ The Aldrich Contemporary Art Museum

Summer Institute: Text and Context

Tue., June 27, 10 a.m.-3 p.m. — The Aldrich’s inaugural Summer Institute, Teaching and Learning through Contemporary Art and...

View all of today's events

Latest in Poetry

More by Ana C. H. Silva

Hudson Valley Tweets