A barren garden and corn field−
testimonials of a rich time teeming
with organic harvests. I finish the last cup
from my first pot of brewed mud.
I come in from the backyard and go the kitchen
to make another one. Then I go to the bedroom
where you and Daddy once slept.
You shopped for nice clothing and shoes that last forever,
and you always purchased your lingerie at specialty shops.
Your favorite spring suits, summer dresses winter coats
still hang in your closet, in the order you left them.
The small suitcase you always kept packed
in case of an emergency is still on the top shelf.
I walk back to the kitchen, pour the cup of coffee
that will dry my eyes. I open your favorite cookbook,
turn the pages, and study your notes. My right point finger
traces letters joined together like protesting the demise
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