(Poem 94 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

There’s nothing more refreshing
than a cold glass of sweet iced
tea when a body’s hot as blazes.
My Mema insisted on unsweet,
so we had to agree to disagree.
Once, when I was up in Detroit,
someone offered to make me a
glass and poured powder into
liquid; it was instant, they said.
I had never heard of such an
innovation and was baffled by
the dehydrated concoction.
Well, how do you make it? they
asked, and were equally perplexed
by my method of brewing a pot
of tea, only to pour it over ice.
The strange culture clash was
more unsettling than yous guys
instead of y’all, playing football
in the snow, drinking milk out of
bags, and eating ketchup chips.
At least Mema and I agreed on
the starting point for our tea
with a fresh tea bag, a boiling
pot of water, and a few minutes
of conversation while you wait
for it to steep. No need to rush.
Take your time. Sit a spell.

@Home Studio – 94^th poem of the year