the green room

I made cookies
for you boys,
she says,
as you unload the truck
to cover
her furniture
and rugs,
the lamps with
torn shades.
coffee too,
she says,
carrying in a
tarnished silver
tray with
cups, milk
and sugar, small
spoons with which
to stir.
she is happy to
have company,
men, about to paint
away the drabness
of her long
winters day.