There are tiny ghosts
in my kitchen.
The first one I found
swimming in the sugar pot.
It holds the spoon whenever
I go in
and grapples with wispy fingers.
Eventually I pull free
but my tea still tastes bitter
despite the half spoonful of sugar.
The second sits and cracks
the tops of the eggs in the fridge.
Perhaps to protest the fact
I refrigerate my eggs
or to remind me of the sound
a heart makes when it breaks;
it is slow and happens
over time.
The third hangs off the lid
of my milk and squeals;
with pleasure or pain
I cannot decide
but by the end of the day
my ears are ringing
along with the kettle
which sings too often
during the weeks I spend
at home alone,
all of the time.
The fourth languishes
in the sink with cups, spoons
and takeaway plastic
I will end up discarding soon.
I’m pretty sure it is the reason
my taps leak; the drips
which drop perpetually
all day and all night,
the tears I am too tired
to cry.
And the fifth appears
in glimpses; in the stainless steel
taps and the chrome
handles on my oven and microwave.
She is the most familiar
of all;
because I’ve seen her
in windows and mirrors
elsewhere in my house.
There are tiny ghosts
in my kitchen and I
cannot decide if they
make me feel more or less
alone.
© Kristiana Reed 2019
This is one of your best, in my humble opinion.
LikeLike
Amazing piece…reminds me of TS Eliot’s work
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh my, what a comparison. Thank you so much💛
LikeLiked by 1 person
I enjoyed this poem! It’s original and endearing, too.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you! ☺️
LikeLike
This really is great. It’s one of my favorite things I have read in a while.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, I am so pleased you enjoyed it ☺️
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re welcome.
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is your best!!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so so much 💖💖
LikeLike
Love ❤️
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you 💛
LikeLiked by 1 person