she poured a drink
from her cast iron teapot,
and in a timeless haze
we sat and stared
i wish i’d known
the herbs she used to brew it;
the careful way
in which it was prepared
i thanked her for the drink,
and then we parted;
there was no melodrama
in goodbye
but i cannot forget
the taste the feeling,
and even more,
i cannot tell you
why
