Thirty poems in April: a final in verbs
We are verbing around in the Graden  for the last day of April

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A Tea-bag Kind of Day

I have been tea-bagged
Dunked in and out of hot water
Then left to steep too long –
Had every ounce of goodness
Squeezed out of me
And now you wonder why
I am just a bit bitter
If you were more observant you
Could have read the warning in the
Dregs I left behind