Brewed strong and served honest, Tea (Mostly) is a love-letter to survival: to grief that refuses to be quiet, to the ordinary magic of mugs and mountains, and to the stubborn pulse of hope that keeps showing up anyway. Moving from hospital wards to Welsh hillsides, from missed connections on trains to the soft revolutions of everyday rooms, Bronwen John writes in a voice that's candid, wry and luminous. Organized in four movements-The World Did Not End, Tell it to the mountain and sea, Letter to Adulthood, and Love written on a typewriter-these poems hold the small, fierce triumphs that never make headlines: finishing the cup, calling back (or not), learning the language of leaving, and staying human through it all. If you've ever found yourself talking to a memory, pressing a palm to a window at dusk, or laughing in the same breath as you ache, this collection will feel like coming home-kettle on, pen ready.