Skip to main content
A tea-stalk floating in my cup—that means
A stranger coming: so we used to say;
And wonder if he would be dark or fair;
And half-expect to hear his knock all day.

A stranger coming! None but strangers now
Knock at my door, since life draws near the end—
And not a friend left … Yet, shall he not come,
The last dark stranger, as a longed-for friend?
Rate this poem
No votes yet
Reviews
No reviews yet.