Creatures, Rainbows, and a Penguin


I wish I had the talent to describe this kitchen

but I will have to rely upon mere words,

which I hope will be enough.

Against one wall, stands something with a name no one is quite sure of

made of worn brown wood.

Scattered here and there are

jars, a cookbook, packages of tea, a letter or two

a black cat slowly attempts to walk the

hazardous path of items,

but stumbles and jumps back down;

Lined up above the sink

are jars of what I will call spices

of faded reds, yellows, greens, browns,

as if from some rainbow brought down to earth;

a climbing plant creeps it's way down from

the black microwave,

blending into the black counter,

so that the focus is not on either,

but rather on the pale dish-cloth hanging against

the confused stove;

on the small wooden keepers

of flour, sugar, tea;

on the assortment of untensils, bottles, dishes...

All of these create a picture -

but nothing captures the essence of this family

quite so well as the brightly coloured Penguin,

sitting in the corner.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This poem is dedicated to two dear friends, Kathleen and Liana, who gave me a home when all I asked for was a house...

View dolphin's Full Portfolio