Tea on back deck, under the sun

A cup of amber tea.
My friend crafted
the cup from clay
made by God, packaged
by humans, glaze
probably mechanically
distilled. Amber tea,
from yellow, black
leaves, Chinese. Iron
Japanese pot for steeping.
Unbleached sugar, its time
as Paraguayan cane
crystallized, shipped last
in plastic. Dust bits float
on the surface. Am I
swallowing my own skin?
Spume, mirror of the sun,
of a face, diminutive,
effervescent, from
the center out to a
circumstantial part
of the potter's
boundary, minus the three
aloofly polar domes
there alone, noticed
and inspiring. Inspiring
to be not too concerned,
not merely observant.