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 