Tea Kettle Poem by Holly Jamestone

She was a simmering tea kettle
As I held my breath waiting for each day's eruption
Yelling seldom about me but always enveloping my spirit
Barking at the air, nipping at my heels
Common sense skewed and scattered in the rafters
But never within an emotional ladder's reach

Years gone by, yet her noisy vapor still seethes like a dragon
Her tongue often sharp as a snake's
Wild, eye-popping rage settling in the floorboards
Swept under the rug again and again
As my former safe haven and retreat under my bed
Is only in my daydreams now

Long-since grown, I exhale and dust myself off
Unconditional love surely possible
As it's okay to pick up one's own pieces and realize I do not
Own her venom, her madness, can only empathize with
Her demise of reason, of patience, a vent malfunction which all
Clash with solitude but will never rob me of my own peace

(8-28-2006)
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