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Pine St. Kitchen #9

Pine St. Kitchen #9

Nostalgia has a way of blurring things. I’ve wound up at the ER twice after cooking here. In my own kitchen I’ve cut myself, but in my mother’s I get burned. The summer after my first divorce she told me things I couldn’t think about for decades.
But now at night, walking home from town and seeing the chandelier glowing, even in an empty window, I know I’m being hailed—and hugged-- across the years. Rooms and their furnishings come and go. Light lasts a little longer.
For EMS, 1912-2007