Unstirred

Made tea, let the heat do its work

on the cube, not stirring.

Just watched it go.

The hard edge softens first, then

the corners round, a ghost

of its old form.

Then it's just gone,

a sweetening without effort,

leaving no trace of its crystal architecture,

only a memory of solid white,

in the deep brown brew.

No grand disappearance.

Just gone.