L.
Dusk turned to dark
and yet she sat
unaware
the screen door
to the back porch
tapped at the doorjamb
sometimes to the rhythm
of the song crackling over the radio
Silverblue smoke
curled from her cigarette
framing her silhouette
as the yellow kitchen
took on a darkness
that reflected her own
The curtains hung limp
but for an occasional breeze
that brought new air
into the house that
had suffocated a long time ago
the refrigerator hummed
like any other day,
but it wasn't.
Posted by Amanda at December 15, 2002 08:46 PM
