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Wednesday, February 1, 2012

THE GLASS STRAW

    A scene keeps repeating
It flashes by at a glimpse
    Then it fades
As it reappears, the smells return
Fifty year old aromas blend with the memories

It is always clean
It is always bright
Order and organized

The neutral patterns are appealing
they also are comforting, soothing
not the old fashioned commonplace
a contemporary picture of a modern kitchen

The room stretches the width of the house
Windows adorn both sides
The south window is bordered by cabinets
and the walls of the cabinets on opposite sides of the window
have little shelves, three each

One item stands out
It fits the whole shelf that has rounded edges
and is as tall as to almost reach the bottom of the shelf above

She has a red dress flowing to twice the width of her shoulders
her hands meet together gracefully
her smile and face and hair minor agents in the tapestry
Out of reach for the little fingers
She is for others to reach
To caress her hair, to lift the torso
with the cookie inside

At the other window only wallpaper adorns
Sweet cafe curtains lend curl, a furl soft against the wall
A narrow sill that sometime held a pack of Paulombo's

One chair sat perpendicular
open, alongside the table
ready to occupy

Atop the table, a platter covered with a paper napkin
beneath the napkin some pear wedges
the like measure provolone, also bread

A muted pattern fit the midriff of the lone glass
 it's place resting beside the platter
Water within an inch of the rim
Facing near the window
reaching two inches past the rim
and another two past the circumference of the tumbler
was the top tip
of the glass straw






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