My daughter quivers
across from me at the table.
A teabag leaks its copper blood.
A clock’s ticking in the wordless air.
She is unaware I’m placing the call.
Burnt matches in the ashtray like sleeping bodies.
The recording comes on. She can’t hear.
Her weak sipping breaks the kitchen’s heart.
I ask God: Why?
She stares at the window.
The window stares back.
Unlit cigar a small brain-dead animal.
I tell God: She chose Winnie-the-Pooh wallpaper.
A stain on the napkin? Or the spoon’s tear?
I ask if he’ll stroke her cheek, please,
even when she’s asleep.
She takes another sip,
lifts the tea bag out.
It dangles between us.
I hang up.
Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 26, Issue 3.
Neil Carpathios is the author of seven full-length poetry collections, most recently, Lifeaholics Anonymous (Kelsay Books, 2023). He has taught widely, and currently is Writer-in-Residence at Malone University in Canton, Ohio.
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