The teacups are short and chubby-looking
painted with cragged branches and red blossoms
reminding me of Russian matryoshka.

You know, the happy-faced dolls
that nest, larger hiding smaller
and so on, until the baby appears.

No, nesting won’t do here
for who would get the larger cup? 
Instead, these stack neatly

with one lid for the top
to keep the dust and bugs out.
One day I’ll take them off the shelf

and make two cups of tea
maybe set out a plate of cookies
to sip and eat by the window

even though the friend
who gave me the teacups
doesn’t live here anymore.