to put away
half a white onion, a leftover ripe tomato,
and a half-gone jar of grated parmesan.
it's an easy motion
to pull the sleeves of my favorite long cardigan over my hands
as i hug myself
and stand staring out of the little window
above my kitchen sink.
the old refrigerator kicks on behind me,
and i wonder whether to read,
or go for a walk,
or if i should simply stand here quietly
while the dishes dry.
it's a simple thing
to miss someone.
is there a place for putting that away?
some easy compartment of the heart
that i can't find or imagine?
it's a simple thing,
but not easy,
to feel so uncertain and empty.
is something wrong with me, to feel this way?
and i wonder
does it ever stop?
for the Get Listed challenge at Real Toads. I used just one word: "simple".