tea leaf residue

spent, sodden sachet

the cozy warmth

that emanates still

from my favorite

autumnal mug

harvested seeds

gathered blooms

garden dreams

microwave door stands open

shadow-lines angle

the upper left corner

of its back wall

striking striations seldom seen

or appreciated, if ever

for nearly most of the day

rain, rain, blasted rain

how I mourn the loss

of September’s charm

whose appendages are these

atop the keys of my laptop —

gnarled, veiny knuckles

fingers, each back-of-hand dorsum?

sitting poised to transfer brain’s activity

to an illuminated sheet of paper,

I can’t help but question how decrepit and old

this body of mine has somehow become.