dancing in the kitchen

as we

cook together.

chopping vegetables,

sautéing

meat, pouring wine.

we say little.

it's a dance of sorts

in the narrow

kitchen.

the flames on,

the oven hot,

knives and forks

in hand,

seasonings standing by

as the salad

gets tossed,

then somehow

it all comes together

and ends

up at the table,

with a vase of flowers

in the middle

that she cut in the garden.