On my lap
I feel a warm cat,
and in my hand
my favourite cup
of cranberry and raspberry.
But there is no
fruity burst on the tongue,
just heat in my mouth
that no longer spreads
to the cockles of my heart.
No heightening of the senses.
No calm.
I hear myself breathe.
I watch a poem bloom from the leaves.
Kim M. Russell, 12th April 2026
Another re-worked poem for Melissa’s Poetics prompt which explores the senses.
writing in north norfolk 
Imagine a no-taste of tea…. something beginning so gently and then being something almost night-marish…. I imagine how much this would feel like after covid.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love that fusion of senses where steaming tea melds with imagination: “I watch a poem bloom from the leaves.”
LikeLiked by 1 person
That last line hit me especially hard, too. And
“But there is no
fruity burst on the tongue,
just heat in my mouth
that no longer spreads
to the cockles of my heart.”
I felt sadness as I imagined no longer being able to taste.
LikeLike