English Breakfast
By Grace Pennington, student
by Christina Bunker
Plop me into boiling water
And I shall steep and submerge
And bleed the flowers of my trade
Permeating the scent of jungles,
Africa, India and sweet earth
Traded tastes of spiced lands unknown
Into one contained ocean
Bringing forth a hue like burnt caramel
Dug up gold with a nutty taste
If you let me stew long enough
If the bath is scorching enough
If I let go enough
Then, time and tie me right
And you will find that
Steam brings out a beauty
That is held inside
Of my potpourri of exotic lands
Drink me and understand









