Mom bought me a pound of C.S. Lewis Tea:
“Irish Breakfast tea blend, bold black tea
from India’s Assam region.”
In the years when her cancer seemed gone,
I could drink it straight. When it returned,
I let that tea linger
in the back of my pantry
while I sipped easier blends—
white tea with peach
green tea with ginger
red tea with vanilla.
Now that cancer has steeped itself throughout her body,
I can drink the steaming brew at breakfast,
swallow the darkness whole.