dinner with a view

after work,

with my boots still on,

hands

unwashed, the dirt

of the day

on me,

i stand in the cold light

of the ice

box, staring

at what might become

dinner.

not much there,

eggs

and lettuce.

nothing to write home

about. i pull

a jar of grape jelly out,

then peanut butter from

the cupboard.

i find

two slices

of bread, both end pieces,

the broad knife

from the drawer.

this will do.

i've had more,

i've had less..

and this view out the kitchen

window,

past the sink

and dirty dishes stacked,

is the best.