Comforter

A poem for slow recovery

I started loving tea again–
a ski lodge handwarmer
with honey and cream,
the smell of spring mint
in the dark dead of winter,
sweatshirt sleeves 
swaddling my hands
like the mittens of a hobbyist 
who gave up knitting
halfway through
because life got long
and she got tired
and the road before her bent out of sight,
lost in thorns and stinging mist
but still
she has the remains,
and they are soft,
they hold her warmth,
they keep her company. 

I started loving tea again. 
I’ve started to love what is left. 

Carly Marlys is a poet, historical fiction author, marketer, and occasional essayist (when the mood strikes). She posts poems about life, healing, and whatever else happens to catch her attention on the second and fourth Fridays of the month (or at least that is the goal). To receive said poems and delight in a variety of verse, please subscribe to this Substack.