At the bottom of a chipped tea cup, I watch a far future form from wet leaves.

Hibiscus histories and
Spearmint sagas and
Licorice lives yet lived.

Soggy, soggy our future there
At the bottom of that cup.

Clumped together our future there
At the bottom of that cup.

A woman praying on the wall.
A dragon devouring the moon.

A dying child handle-bound.
A future seen too soon.