In the Beach House Kitchen
Patricia Percival

Suppose kitchenware could talk, testify
spill the beans.  At the sink I wonder,
who has scrubbed, whose husband dried
this shrimp boil pot and scratched up skillet?  Ponder

the character of saints who scoured
or reprobates who failed to polish
this pan from which their kids devoured
corn on the cob and crab cakes, or demolished

the spagettios.  Dad fried Jimmy Dean
hung over in pajamas.  Babies
chewed the Tupperware tops.  The tweens
collected snails in the bundt pan. Perhaps gravy

stuck to the crock pot should be forgiven.
Vacations are short, idylls riven.

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