The Light in the Kitchen



Last night Nancy read my cards to me.


I shuffled and noticed

the dozens of hats on the walls,

dust ridden

paintings of women unbuttoning

their shirts,

and an old snap shot

of the wise-eyed grandfather;

seeker of the soul

in a blade of grass,



The blue, cracked linoleum

under the kitchen light

possessed the loneliness

of deep oceans,



She flipped the cards over one by one

and now the words she said

will remain there forever;

in the dust,

in the eyes,

in the broken linoleum.

“It’s going to be a struggle.

All the saints are upside down

You can’t love everyone.

The path is there you just need to get the hell on it.

You must make it real.

Breathe for your own sake”.



Liz Foster



Author: circadianrefrain

Female. 26. Writer/Artist

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