Every noon as the clock chimes three,

She opens the canister of fragrant cardamom tea,

Two spoonfuls she measures, one for him and one for her,

And into a china kettle filled with water she gently stirs,

She lets it simmer and switches on the tape recorder–their favorite song plays in endless loops,

With a gentle smile once again the spices in her kitchen cupboard she regroups,

As fragrance wafts from the frothing tea,

With nostalgia she’s swirls to the past momentarily,

As the timer chimes, she jolts back to the present and into two tea cups she pours the tea,

Spoonfuls of milk she adds, sugar in one, and to the other she adds honey,

At last she sits, savoring the tea she just brewed with love,

While watching the other cup she brewed for her husband in the realm above.

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