Creator Glimpsed Serving Tea The suits having settled, negotiations under way, she enters to serve,
placing tea before men held taut, as if
each cup carries the delicate balance of diplomacy.
Precisely, silently, invisibly, the sacred task undertaken but incomplete, she withdraws
at the door, bows, a gesture offered to the four pinched
corners, as if to appease the room itself.
Afterwards I try to recall: did I steal a glance or did the passing glint of a key discretely
pocketed catch my eye? or was there perhaps a moment when some
infinite universe was fashioned?
Took shape on a dark table amid four blank walls or was there simply a shuffle of slipper and the
tidy whispered rustle of silk gathered before she turned, to disappear?
© DG Evans Tokyo January 2006 |