A Kitchen Scene

David Penn

The woman, fixed in near-aquatic silence,
picked her gloves and gazed
into the window. Steam rose,
burnishing the glass,
and for a moment
made the world outside a blur of colour,
shadow, unfamiliar shapes.
She could have been on Mars
but sensibly
she wiped the window, sighed,
and squirted Fairy
in the washing bowl.
Her husband's chair creaked
as he read the paper,
while the sixty-watt-lit semi
plunged relentlessly
through space.

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