Bleach Gives The Kitchen A Clean Crisp Smell by Caitlin Mayes
I put five drops of lavender oil Into a spray bottle To freshen the carpets And the pet fur.
Crimson cheeks and foggy glasses greet me upon entering the narrow hallway in high October.
Train tracks outside Shake the photos on the wall, I hear the pitter patter of little feet and rain on the roof.
Hot water and pink bubbly soap oily black cast iron. The kitchen smells of fresh cloved garlic and green basil. Center of gravity, 6 planets in orbit.
Books and canvas bright tubes of paint trunk full of keepsakes, filled notebooks, and bad poetry. Clean laundry and folded quilts. Smears of pen ink and acrylic paint.
Dog’s barking at the neighbors outside of the window. Shh! Baby’s sleeping.
Sewing Machine and dresser drawers Easy chair, and dragons and elephants. Salonpas and Coca Cola. Set the stage for the reading Of good books
Tan walls sport black and white photos. Black leather recliner And a constant football game. Man relaxes on couch After 60 hours of work
Scrubbed clean tiles rolled washcloths teal towels and unused makeup kits bathed in warm red light from the low drop ceiling.
Galaxy of neon stars support Baby’s dreams, During a midday rest Monkey stuffed animals and paw patrol sneakers Lay on the floor.
Red wooden plane hanging over action figures and legos. Cartoons become white noise for imagination And building-block sculptures
Bleach scrubbed table set for six. The train rattles the silverware As I set the table.