Kitchen Poem

Kitchen Poem

The leaves fall and crumbled off the wilting plant 

On the top of fridge it died

The oven was warm, its mouth ready to open 

And eat whatever pan we put in

The fridge has colorful magnets on its smooth white surface

The counters were covered in small green plants and succulents

The table had flour all over the wooden board

Outside the window was my grandmother kneeling over the garden

Picking vegetables and herbs

Her hands were caked in dirt for digging for potatoes

The basket next to her was filled with basil, tomatoes,cucumbers, and other goodies

She stood up and carried it over to the house

She bathed them in the sink, washing off any sign of dirt,

Like it was never in the ground, the brown water swirl down the drain

She took the sharpest knife and cut and peeled all of her ingredients 

Ready to be cooked in an iron pan

She fried the slabs of meat in the iron pan, grease danced over the meat

The oven timer went off, she pulled out her creation

She wiped the table down, wiping of all the white powder and leftover dough

Placing each plate down in its place, the finest silver next to them

Plating each dish in the China set, covered in pink and white flowers

Steam swirled over the table, scent filling our noses

The family was together and so we ate

-kaz