I'm washing my hands
beneath the normal-kitchen-
view,
and a bird is sitting on a
wire, I think watch-
ing me too

and I'm slowly scrubbing dishes,
china-chipped from
soft soirées
& eating with my
house coat on,
the winter chill ablaze

I'm thinking of an
empty pan,
to be used then begin again,
I'm lighting the stove and
filling my
*** with
Orange and Cinnamon