The Kettle

So it’s been a while,

but the kettle’s on the stove and

the door latch is dangling

down to let you in.


Carpet bunches between your

placid toes, a feeling almost

forgotten–patient rain buckets

on a desert plain.


You won’t look up and

that’s OK for tonight, as it

was for last night, too, and the

last four years. It seems


Words don’t come easy

and the familiar feels so foreign

–I know it’s been a while


but the kettle’s on the stove

and you’ve come inside.


3 thoughts on “The Kettle

  1. Dude. I loved this. It felt to me extremely subtle in its theme and very detailed in its observation. Extremely effective. If today’s batch of poems is any indication, we’re in for quite a month.

  2. Thank you, dan! I don’t know if the stories behind poetry are as taboo as magician’s secrets or something, but in this God was the loyal, subtle husband and I was the wearied wife waiting for rain. I was unaware of any real beauty that could be found in this kind of situation–it just is right now. So by your comments, you’re also personally encouraging me in my faith, as I’m sure we will continue to do throughout this wonderful month.

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