In September, we can be friends.

Absurd, it’s not allowed ’til then.

Doctors and patients, you see,

shouldn’t linger together over tea

until six months have expired.

~

Does this, to you also, feel odd?

Surely it would chafe even God?

It reeks unnatural, this flameless rule—

a mechanism of power, but a tool,

sapping-to-smoke this kettle’s fire.

~

In September, we can be friends.

The cold may be settling in by then.

What to do?  What to do?

One can’t just break a rule.

One can’t have tea, regaling one’s ire.

~

by S.A. Bort / 17 June 2013

photo by S.A. Bort

Advertisements