On the oak end table, on a saucer, sits
my cup half filled with warm peppermint tea.
Alone there in the shadow and golden,
candle light of a glowing lamp,
this cup is from my grandmother's
favorite set of everyday Blue Danube china.
Shiny, smooth and white it is simply patterned
in bluebonnet to delphinium blue
flowers, vines and ferns.
Some flowers resemble hand fans,
some leaves remind me of paisley.
The flowers of this old design begotten
from China's Yuan Dynasty,
is said to bring good fortune and joy.
The cup rimmed on each side is
fine-lined with blue gentle waves.
The handle is white, shaped like a wish bone.

Some days I drink from this cup oblivious.
It could be purple polka dotted or radiant red
and I would not notice it, a part of life's
paraphernalia taken for granted.

Some days when I pick this cup
from the cupboard, I remember
conversations and lunch at Omi's house,
with Europe and Asia in our dining room.
There was cauliflower soup in Blue Danube bowls,
chicken paprikas on Blue Danube plates,
coffee in blue Danube cups,
all on a white table cloth with light blue napkins.

I'm not packing these dishes away
only to occasionally grace our table.
We're using them every day
just like Omi did.