House

Echo of Carol Ann Duffy’s “Ink on Paper”

1.

The mind is vacant.  The wind blows
a soft breeze that whispers unheard.
Across the grass, trees spike the horizon;
they rise and fall like ancient empires, forgotten
kings and warriors.  The glass separates us.  Crickets
keep chirping as they always have.  A cup
of coffee cools on the counter, forgotten.

2.

An empty washer waits yawning for the
next load.  Workboots sit in dried mud,
hosting families of spiders.  The television
drones on in the next room, promising relief
of all personal problems.  Someone drops a
glass and swears.  A cat lays curled on the
dryer, purring gently under her breath.

3.

This sink filled with dishes calls for
procrastination one more time.  Muddied white
ceramics gleam in the light through the
window, which also dances blue through the
bottle of dish soap.  In the mug, knives and forks
mingle politely, making small talk about
work last night, and what they’ll do this weekend.