there is always tea in my kitchen

and almost always, a cup in my hands
filled with a history that rolls on my tongue
as collective souls take their places by my side


offering advice and gathered wisdom i know
i should follow, but, being stubborn i am
always setting off to learn things on my own


become pattern and pattern becomes design
and whispers get woven in the fabric
of the living and the dead, all the women
who came to this table before i even existed


like this brew that warms my fingers, my heart
stronger than despair, or anything i have endured
strong enough to stand here before me


secrets that make me smile and shore me up
against everything yet to come in this life

one season, one cup, one breath at a time




A poem a day for 30 days, in honor of National Poetry Month.
This post is part of NaPoWriMo. see more here.

13 Responses to “blend”

  • honey Says:

    i’d say this was my favorite which i will apply to my constantly carried coffee cup, but i love all of your posts!

  • beth Says:

    there is always a cup of tea in my hands, too…..or a half empty one sitting on my desk. that’s just how it is around here 🙂

  • InkyTwig Says:

    Oh this reminds me of sitting at the kitchen table at the farm where my mom and uncles were raised and where I spent so much time growing up and staying with my grandma. Lord I miss her and this reminds me of the times at the table with her (it was coffee) in one of those old glass stovetop percolators but it’s not that different. There is such a warmth and comfort to your writing especially here. I want to curl up in it and just savor it. Thank you!

  • Michael Says:

    It must be a very large cup to carry so much history. Such stories told by the well worn table, that you have shared with us, as we sit around your table with our cups, through each season.

  • Brandee Says:

    This actually made me a bit weepy this morning. I am a tea drinker, like my mother & my grandmother before me. As I sit here with a cup in my hands, this brings my grandmother’s kitchen to life and warms me through again.

    Just lovely. Thank you for the sensoral hug.

  • Pat Byers (Tilda) Says: for me revolves around the big white coffee cup, filled with french roast WITH caffeine, and just the right amount of coffeemate to make the color my true taste.
    my cup is never far from me.
    love this, Mrs. M.
    in fondest.. Tilda

  • brian miller Says:

    smiles…we all need those rituals…and mine is more coffe than tea, though i like an earl grey every once ina while…and there are def memories in each cup

  • Anna Montgomery Says:

    You’ve done my heart a good turn this morning, felt like curling up to hear a favorite story read aloud. I’m loving these daily visits to your magical poetry.

  • ayala Says:

    Love this…and almost always, a cup in my hands
    filled with a history that rolls on my tongue
    as collective souls take their places by my side…
    great lines.

  • roberta Says:

    That’s me but coffee instead of tea.

  • aprille Says:

    Aahh, a cuppa.
    Yes, it is so much more than the drink itself. I like your idea of giving it a life of its own.

  • Kathryn Dyche Dechairo Says:

    In the UK a cuppa is the ‘go to’ for whatever ails you. Off to put the kettle on.

  • Noel Says:

    I’m in love with collective memory. You capture it so perfectly here!!!

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