Teacup

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My mother took me to a second-hand store

and bought me a teacup, a cylinder of china, modest,

with an image of a geisha holding a gray origami crane,

branches and blossoms behind her, characters on the side.

I think it is too large for traditional Japanese tea,

but I use it despite the way it gets as hot as what it holds.

I have carried it now half-way across the world, as if

there would be no cups in Cordova, as if I might be caught

somewhere with tea that needed catching from the sky,

as if in inheriting this orphaned thing, I promised

to keep it with me, and the girl painted on it, whose lover

went to war, and who has decided to set out in search of him,

as if I promised her passage in my shabby luggage in exchange

for something beautiful that is both from home and not.



2012 Moira G. Gallaga©

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Comments 4 comments

winbo profile image

winbo 4 years ago

Nice!!


Fennelseed profile image

Fennelseed 4 years ago from Australia

Some things just cannot be discarded. I understand your attachment to this teacup and its physical history of how it came into your life, and its whimsical histroy of the painted geisha. I relate as I think your teacup is beautiful and very special. Lovely, my votes to you Moria.


phdast7 profile image

phdast7 4 years ago from Atlanta, Georgia

what a marvelous poem with a story developing and characters introduced...all beginning with a single teacup. And what an wonderful mood, tone you have created. I like this poem very, very much. SHARING


RTalloni profile image

RTalloni 4 years ago from the short journey

"…both from home, and not." Lovely lines you have crafted to go with your amazing teacup! The teacup photos are very cool.

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