Streaked and Spotted

The kitchen window is streaked and spotted
on the outside from months-gone
summer rains.

The air has since turned frigid;
small birds flit & dance on the barren bush
just beyond the sill.

Inside, I stand resting
in the sun that streams through
just above the old porcelain sink.

The dishes are finished
and last wisps of steam rise;
the children are occupied with holiday gifts

as I forget for a moment
everything isn’t all right.

Another notebook fragment from December finally coalesces.


11 thoughts on “Streaked and Spotted

  1. brenda

    For some reason your writing brought to mind these words which felt as though the hand of a bodhisattva touched my heart and wakened a sense of peace.
    No knowing their destiny
    Petals fall
    ~M Leonard

  2. drshyamalavatsa

    ‘Inside, I stand resting
    in the sun that streams through
    just above the old porcelain sink.

    The dishes there are finished’

    Oh, I love this bit. Standing for that one moment at the empty sink, after mopping off the water from around the sink and looking at a dish drainer stacked with clean dishes is so restful! That moment is, before you go on to the next chore. I can’t believe you got hold of that one moment and created poetry – wow!

    1. bussokuseki Post author

      Thank you, Mary Ann, for saying so. I wasn’t so much aware of the tension when I began to write it – yet the truth always seems to emerge given the space… Be well~

  3. j.h. white

    A beautiful poem showing the grace of immediacy and small things….there’s so much here to like, for reflection….I particularly like the first stanza setting the scene


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