Spoon Rests from Dottie
Painted on the spoon rest: “Pat’s Kitchen,”
ironic since I’m not the cook,
gone the one that said, “Ellen’s Kitchen,”
too painful to gaze upon, though she had been the real cook,
both spoon rests proffered by our neighbor, Dottie,
a quiet, grey-haired woman, the one who smiled
and waved, crossed the street to take our big group picture
in our Derby finery.
Organge-brown ceramic in the shape of a teapot. Dottie
had painted the yellow daisies and our names to make them
special-personal. Penny-ordianry, they could be found in any garage sale.
One day Dottie knocked on our door, shattering the mold
of our expectations. She’d been arrested for shop-lifting
and came to us for what–advice, confession, consolation?
Now all that’s left is a lowly spoon rest and memories
of another time, distant, ordinary–
a time we thought would never end.