[Yesterday’s poem never got posted, but I had double the enjoyment – in both the writing of it and in the doing of the topic.]

Egyptian licorice tea
Anticipation begins the pleasure

Fill the electric kettle

While the water comes to boil
Open the cupboard
Take the teabag from the colorful box

Turn to the open shelves
For the favorite mug
The one from Bonnieux

Bonnieux
“Our” hanging village
In the Provençal Luberon mountains
Hills really
Above lavender fields
Villages built on heights for defense
Cascaded down the sides
Over the years, centuries
Bonnieux almost reaching down to the Pons Julien
Built for tramping Roman legions
Now no stranger to cars

The water is boiling
Just a little in the cup
Cradled in my hands as I swish the water
Around and around, warming cup and hands

Dump the warming water
Put the teabag in the cup
Wrap the string once around the handle
Pour in the boiling water
The aroma soothes and revives
Long before the tea is ready to drink

Egyptian licorice tea
Memories of France
Equally comforting