I will stand at the sink

The banana sunshine pooling on the counter

Cookies in the jar

Shoes by the door

Paintings on the wall

And I will wash my hands,

Not to rid myself of something

But to prepare to cut a bell pepper

And I will eat a slice without worrying

And I will toss the rest in a pot, roughly

Stirring with my yellow spoon

A cat around my ankles

I will stand there

And not need to try to keep going

Because my clock with a cuckoo bird –

Its arms will continue to turn,

Making snow angels on the wall

And I will hum a song

And only glance at the clock

When the bird sings

No rush, no fear when the sun goes down

Just a soup and a cat and a kitchen of my own.