Tea Leaves in Confinement Mornings are for finding words, but the leaves in my tea float orange and green among the ginger, turmeric dissolving in spoonsful of splendid honey. This aroma sweetens the delicious quiet punctuated by bursting pops of sap from the old stove. The mild whistle of the wind brushes my windows. A seductress of play. Mornings are best to write and amend but the taste of tea lures me to contemplate the meadow with its brown brush the long dark weight of Mount Emily the nervous chirping of juncos under the hawthorn their fleeting presence while they rummage the mullet I placed early in the moon’s shadow. During this plague, solitude is the gift. Just like this morning’s tea.
Amelia Díaz Ettinger is a ‘Mexi-Rican,’ born in México but raised in Puerto Rico. She has two poetry books published, Learning to Love a Western Sky by Airlie Press, and a bilingual poetry book, Speaking at a Time by Redbat Press. A chapbook was released by Finishing Line Press in February, Fossils on a Red Flag. Currently, Amelia Díaz Ettinger is working on an MFA in creative writing at Eastern Oregon University.
Amethyst Review 