The Kitchen

Almost homey
Light thru the gingham at the windows
softens the rows of tables
as many as the room will fit.
The old Cadillac of a stove
is warm in nature.
Holds many pots.
Burns the arms of the volunteer cooks
leaning down to pull the pans of American Chop Suey out.

The giant Hubbard squash someone brought
sits atop the refrigerator.
It has become a house pet
and vibrates it's benediction whenever the motor goes on.
Barry has dubbed it THE GREAT ORB
who sees all.

Sees the extra muffins stuffed into pockets
sees the needles passed under the tablecloth.
Sees the intentions of all in the room.

As the light fades we all return.
Another day completed
survived on the street.
Another meal provided to sustain us.
Amen.