Our ancestors,
you and me,
our grandmothers
uncles
cousins
great grandpas
and generations of aunts
prepared their homes
Kitchens
Families
Households
Hearts
Intellects
Relationships
Fights
Dresses
Roadways
Novels
Oeuvres
Memoirs
Farmyards
Dissertations
Pockets
Offices
bottomless luggage
closet corners
fingerprinted bannisters —
all to pass over into spring
with greens and tears.
Kosher is a shape-shifting sprite,
tempting with the promise and freedom of wholeness;
of a moment when we are ready—
for now, at least.
Windows open to the freshening air
reminding me what clean can mean.
Over by the window,
at the kitchen sink,
i wash the drawers and shelves of the fridge,
sticky and weary with time and tuesdays.
we rinse and dry together,
and it is enough . . .
enough to let in the holy.
