Having lost

 

She relives the moment each day,

puttering around the kitchen, believing

there are still six mouths to feed instead

of only one. The pantry is full

 

with canned goods past expiration dates

and cupboards overflowing with unopened

Items bought on a whim. Each day,

she brings home something new

 

she doesn’t need, filling the void

of being alone and not busy enough

to avoid the memory of that moment,

 

the one she cannot bear to remember.

 

So, the kitchen still hums

with the dishwasher each night, cleaning

dishes made useful for another meal,

cooked with care for people who have left.