Red Teapot

Shiny and

Slightly battered

My fingerprints mar the perfect red glow

Of the teapot

That whistles on the stove.

It sounds something like regret;

“I am sorry to bother you, but if you do not come right now,

I will boil over and force you to clean tea out of the grate.”

I want to say that I didn’t mind the disruption,

And that

The sound of the whistling sounds

Like companionship.