Sunday Morning Kitchen

February 3, 2014 § Leave a comment

it’s a blinding light cast
across the wooden floor
sending a sky full of dancing dust
upward and spinning

it’s a cup of black warmth and steam
between my palms
with some cinnamon because
my dad always makes it that way

it’s a soft paper floating
from hand-to-hand
dancing around the table
so everyone can catch-up on the news

it’s the refrigerator’s gentle hum
a heated stove-top whistling
a gurgle from the dishwasher
a beautiful appliance symphony

it’s a proud glass window
with fingerprints illuminated
showing off the outside landscape
shining light on our eggs

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