The Kitchen

The kitchen grew organically over many years
cups and plates, like vines, clinging to the cupbroads
in a haphazard manner of wild plants
that would sometimes fall from the shelves
like young starling or sparrow
only to crash on the floor not yet ready to fly

More than any place in the house
he found her spirit near
not in the cupbroads, counters, and stove
but the organization that so mirrored her mind
The very same organization
he complained about until she was no longer here

Now, the chaos held within this shrine of many meals
was where he found peace for his loneliness
found, somehow, that life could go on
as he sat across from her favorite chair watching
the early morning sun illuminate dust motes in the air
that always seemed to coalesce into an image of her face

Sometimes unconsciously
he would reach for her hand across the table
the first piece of furniture they bought as newlyweds
then he'd remember when they were young
and the furniture was new and used
for more athletic, tender, and private affairs

Occationally, he would feel her hand
resting in his and giving a gentle caress