I am waiting for summer to break
loose in the kitchen
for the sun to follow the strawberries
fresh from the field
next to the road
for nightingales to sit on branches
entwined around my windows--
they of a distant continent
and my dusty windows facing
the rear of the barber shop--
for colorful butterflies to float
brightly on overly green vines
but that's Disney's Sleeping Beauty
the kids are watching next door.
The cat is demanding tuna.
By night, fifteen glowing red jars
line the window sill, concentrating
the sunset within the darkening kitchen,
my hands pink and sticky sweet
dinner unmade, I am making toast
for jam.
© by Emily Strauss.
Used with the author's permission.
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