Chamomile
She hands me a mug full of sleepy time tea finding peace in dried chamomile And it is calming as we sit in silence burning our lips, impatient for the taste The freezing February winds race in through the cracks in window panes The seal has been gone for years but she's only lived here for one
She's covered in her comforter and I smile as she holds it open I race in take the space next to hers She wraps the gap up and lays her head on my shoulder The wind outside whips snow into the air It's needles to the skin at this time But it's ok, we're inside and sipping hot chamomile
It's quiet and peaceful in her room And I thank her for sharing it with me for another night I'd rather be here than anywhere else and I think she knows that, or at least I hope she does I wrap my arm around her As we watch the yellow streetlamp battle the night home sipping on chamomile