"dazzle gradually"

"Dazzle Gradually" 2016 poems, paintings, new art & photography--a diary, a discipline, a delight. Read over my shoulder as I post my unedited poetry ---you can see it in the raw.


Polly Alice

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Spaghetti

When the sauce is juicy and not too red, it’s just right.
I slurp noodles off your cold Corning Ware until
it’s like we’re in your old kitchen with the round fridge
gurgling. When I pulled the latch it welcomed me full
with its old lettuce smell and tiny tubs of Promise.

At night the kitchen lights reflect in the sliding glass door.
My reflection and I slurp the last sauce off plates
as clean as the moon.

When the spaghetti is gone, I sigh because I miss you.
But I know there will be more nights of spaghetti and
my own children running about with hair like so many noodles.

I chose to be happy, because I sense the Parmesan shakes
with no sign of running out.



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