In the kitchen daisies dance on a field of yellow,
In the kitchen cereal is stored between the wall studs,
In the kitchen pudding is stirred from a foot stool,
In the kitchen cast iron radiator foot rest,
In the kitchen popcorn fire ceiling stain,
In the kitchen tricycle zooms from laundry room to living room,
In the kitchen cookies cool,
In the kitchen girl scouts learn to cook,
The kitchen,
now only a memory,
the house long ago sold,
and not quite so long ago fallen prey to gravity.
More: Sunday Scribblings.
6 comments:
oh how depressing! But at least you stopped with good memories, which is what is gonna stay with us for longer than anything else.
happy posting away :)
Oh, the popcorn fire ceiling stain really got me! And the tricycle zooming, and stirring pudding!
This was a wonderful poem!
Great imagery. Beautiful memories despite the somewhat sad ending.
gautami
Cook up a tale
Sweet and sad. Kitchens have amazing power, don't they?
It was roller-skaes in our kitchen.....
I felt I was visualizing ghosts. Nicely put together.
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