Rainbows

I sit in the kitchen with Yoshi,
drinking from enormous mugs,
I wouldn't buy that big
but Yoshi is 7 foot tall,
unmarried, not particularly eligible
and holds this impossible torch
for a woman who kissed him once
then danced through the cobwebs
to other lands and distant loves.

Yoshi can make a good coffee,
not one of those silly fancy ones,
a good bitter, earthy coffee
that evokes memories
of a little girl sitting at a pine table
imagining stories from the woodgrain
and watching kitchen dramas unfold
as papa wrangles and mama sighs
her long black hair scented
in an aroma that still haunts and eludes her.

The kitchen that we now sit in
is chic, smart, with clear cut lines,
everything is hidden or highlighted
and polished by a polish lady
who comes in three times weekly
their are no drifting stains or smells
of culinary delights and failures
just Yoshi, the long flank of his legs
stroking the lacquered flooring
while I perch on a stool designed
for the impossibly tall.

Upstairs lies memories that
should never have been allowed
and the silence in the kitchen
deafens me, I take solace
in the murderous tick tock
of an antique clock that sits
out of place in otherwise perfection.

After coffee there will be some explaining
and a magic trick in how easily
I can disappear;
the endless, invisible tightrope
of a ballerina falling from grace.
I will kiss, thrice
one for each cheek and one to the air
then run to catch the vapour trail
until next time, maybe
or somewhere where rainbows
really do have pots of gold at the end.





Poetry by Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 366 times
Written on 2017-03-18 at 10:57

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email
dott Print text



one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
there is always poignancy in your lines that strike the heart, or that part of the brain that is vulnerable. this does that, but there is also a sense of—i don't exactly what—how many more "next times" can there be?

i hope many, many, many.
2017-03-20


shells
There's an unsettling feeling to this, there's memories, now and probably a repeat. I do hope you find the pot of gold. Loved that line "then danced through the cobwebs. "
2017-03-19