Oolong Tea

by Ted King

Sleeveless and Braless,

the underside of her

left breast revealed the site

of the incision.

Her forever reminder of

that particular war.

With two soft fingers

I touched the scar.

The scar which, to me,

only added to her beauty.

She did not move,

save to close her eyes.

Her hand curled into a fist

as she inhaled a memory

and then relaxed as she

exhaled forgiveness.

Homage paid,

I withdrew my touch.

She opened her eyes.

Smiling, she said

“I think I'll make a cup

of Oolong Tea.

Would you like some?”

______________________

Ted King is a widely published Jazz Poet and Performer.