Tea Time

Tea Time
at Pinehurst, North Carolina.

I was 11, my mom and I would go,
Father golfed, and it was just us ladies.
Sleepytime, it was called, in the dark blue bags
my fingers caught in the net of herbs.
Never can quite remember which one she chose.

Tea Time at 4'o clock sharp,
Mother and I weren't used to such luxuries.
It was always a delight, and I was 13.
Sleepytime tea, infused with pink sugar-free packets,
I do believe she used a bit of honey.
We sat in the lobby, fancy couches and chairs
were kings and queens in their sacred hall,
in my sacred hall of memories.

Tea Time, and we were running late,
I think I am still running.
Sleeptytime tea was all out,
and I had to settle for Earl Grey.
I was 14, did not know this would be our last,
did not know, as I swirled the black coffee straw
in mesmerizing patterns so the sugars would dissolve,
as we sat on the familiar yet foreign chairs,
as our laughter warmed the giant hall with its persian rugs,
Did not know this would be our last.