Nothing in it, nowt but the air
around and residue of previous cups
of tea. The strainer sits, droplets
gather in its centre,
brown, reflecting the
world comprised of utensils for another
meal. The milk jug waits,
recycling advances like skeleton
with scythe,
tremors ripple over stagnant sink water,
plates and knives poke through suds
into cool air.

Perhaps it could hold water,
maybe juice for a picnic
some weekends from now,
birds and sun and flowers and fun,
they gather on blankets
and pour out energy,
another use
for this hollowed container.
Can it remain for longer
than normal? Should it?