By ~ John Cotton
In the kitchen
After the aimless
Chatter of the plates,
The murmurings of the gas,
The chuckle of the water pipes
And the sharp exchanges
Of knives, forks and spoons,
Comes the serious quiet,
When the sink slowly clears its throat
And you can hear the occasional rumble
Of the refrigerator's tummy
As it digests the cold.
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really good
ReplyDeleteMakes the idea of a kitchen "come to life"
ReplyDeletewhat is the main idea of it
ReplyDeleteFantastic piece of prose. I remember studying this in second grade under the tutelage of our teacher, Belinda Moylein, who
ReplyDeletethis poem really hit my soft spot it reminded me of the one time a stranger bought me a ice cream and I really admired his resilience towards the eureka building
ReplyDeletethe first time I rode a bike a fell off and grazed my elbow it wasn't the best of feelings but the feeling was great like the first time I read this poem
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