The humming fluorescent light
hovers above me.
The refrigerator startles itself
into doing what it was made to do:
freezing.
A dried-up bunch of roses hangs upside down,
colorless,
dangling,
a pretty string keeping them all
together at the far end of their stems.
The house is empty.
In the living room,
the lamp on top of the trunk
casts its pale
yellowish luster around its base,
onto the wooden floor,
leaving
the more distant sections of the room
in a shadowy retreat.
The fridge jumpstarts into action as before.
I'm sitting at the table
in another kitchen,
watching another lamp
and another living room,
miles away from
the humming,
fluorescent light
in the kitchen
of the empty house.

© 2002 José Sevillano

 
A MIRROR
josé sevillano
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