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by Tinker
Rated: E · Poetry · Family · #2132466
A poem in Blank Verse

The TV drones the sounds of company,
a half-full coffee-maker sends sweet steam
to drift around the sunny open room.
Although it's fall there is no need for heat
the thermostat sits just at seventy two.
Blue Levi’s hug plump hips a little tight,
an over-sized white tee-shirt loosely hangs
from slightly rounded shoulders, spatter stains
of sauce at random dot the front. She stirs
the thick red stew and takes a taste to note.

Her mind slips back to feel the boom of drums
and shouts of “turn that blasted music down”
responded by “its AC~DC, Mom.”
The same sweet smell is perking from the pot,
the kitchen then was small and white and old
and she would open wide the door for air.
Her jeans were looser too, a stain would send
her off to change. She always tried to look
her best. She never knew how many to
be fed and threw in extra just in case.
He often brought a friend to share their meal
and hungry teens were always common fare.

Tonight it's just herself with memories.
                             ~~Judi Van Gorder

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