Today is nothing. Gray ghost
canvas.
Every color has been broiled
out, to evaporate in
ammonia scented windows.
The kitchen is a common place
for rainbows, for
sunlight.
How many times has a wife
picked yellow kitchens?
Stitched yellow sunflowers
into their children’s memories?
Today, the kitchen is nothing. White walls
splattered
with greasy old moments
that reflect in the glass shower walls,
in the colors
from the sun outside.
maggiemaeijustsaythis 
The constant agility of your mind and the resulting images… How do you do it?
The nearest I get to this is in thoughts rather than images. I take very seriously the idea that although things seem separate they are in fact all connected (Ouspensky) and my constant mantra is HOW CAN I CONNECT THIS WITH THAT? It works for me in poetry and in haiku but mostly, I suppose, in thought flows as in my Blogs. If I’m in ‘poetry-mode’ then I make connections in verse. From my point of view you seem always to be in what I would call ‘poetry-mode’… Which is great!
Especially when one takes the view that all life is a poem…
Colin
This one is very visual for me, perhaps because I’m such a domestic momma, who spends quite a bit of time in the kitchen. Though I’d like to think that my kitchen is beautiful and clean, I can see how/why an alternate reality can be so richly painted with words. The kitchen is that metaphoric domicile for so much more domestic bliss or turmoil.
Thanks Maggie!
Bleak but real
This is absolutely stunning.
Very unsettling. The opening just grabs you.