Tea

I am sitting on
An old chair in polite
Custody in a dingy security
Office where I cannot read the
Letters on wall signs and the
Speech of passersby is
Incomprehensible to
Me under artificial
Lights buzzing
Cool in a cold
Room when
A woman
Hiding in
A sweater
Hands me
A cup of hot
Tea on a saucer
With two lumps of
Sugar and a worn
Spoon which I mix
Then drink all the
Time smiling a
Thanks to her
Until I am
Sent on
Down
The hall
For process
Through customs
And back out into the
Bright broad world
Walking away but
Struck by her
Kindness
In a cup
Of Baltic
Amber tea.