sitting at the table
sipping water
watching the fan
revolving in the gold rim
of the Chinese plate
on the shelf
Shostakovich
playing on the radio
aching with sweetness
and you working in the kitchen
all Chekovian anguish gone
the light is golden
the air is still
Alison Cassidy
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-aftermath-8/
