Thursday Poem

In The Kitchen

A jug of water

has its own lustrous turmoil

The ironing board thanks god

for its two good strong legs and sturdy back

The new fridge hums like a maniac

with helpfulness

I am trying to love the world

back to normal

The chair recites its stand-alone prayer

again and again

The table leaves no stone unturned

The clock votes for the separate burial of hearts

I am trying to love the world

and all its 8,000 identifiable languages

With the forgetfulness of a potter

I’m trying to get the seas back on the maps

where they belong

secured to their rivers

The kettle alone knows the good he does,

Here in the kitchen, loving the world,

Steadfastly loving

See how easy it is, he whistles

by Penelope Shuttle