My Cup Poem by Liilia Talts Morrison

I recall a tiny room
Cramped with solitude and gloom
Silverfish with minute feet
Crawling on a dusty broom

Haunting fears would not let up
As I warmed my only cup
Hotplate perched on a small chair
Waiting for my evening sup

This was all so long ago
For God took his mighty bow
Flung me as an arrow high
Far above that frightful low

As I clean my sparkling place
A quaint mirror shows my face
Mouth is smiling yet my eyes
Show a trace of days gone by.