The very scent and taste of Jasmine tea
always raises an anguished memory
from my life's dismal days of '81,
when I presumed that my young life was done.
Love, as I had one known it, had withdawn
and all its (then) delights taken and gone,
with nothing left of joy, much less of hope.
I did not have adult resilence
yet, and succumbed to this experience
with not the least idea of how to cope.
Daily, I found myself recrushed again
to grieving for both past and "might have been."
Three decades hence, I still dread Jasmine tea---
a revenant that haunts too easily.
Starward
[jlc]