iv. Mother: making tea

Tea kettle on
a kiss on her forehead started the morning
but there were no words as he walked over to the window
to watch their son on the shore

three oaken creaks tracked her progress
from bedroom door to kitchen floor
then the near-silence was broken
but water running into the her grandmother's black kettle.

a quick three snaps and the comfort of blue flame
leaping from the burner on the clean white stove

In only moments -- tea.