Farewell to the Grasshopper
Farewell to the Grasshopper
The house is on the market
and I have been cleaning all night,
reorganizing every kitchen cabinet, tidying,
finding the splatters from spills-
they mark their territory in a much wider range
than previously known;
chocolate syrup dribbled on the edge of one cabinet door,
cake batter speckled the face of two more-
the ones below the counter where I operate the mixer,
and something green and stubborn attached itself
to the lower tray of the fridge door.
My eyes did not see the chaos when it first arrived-
they are getting old.
When I was done with cleaning for the night,
with ninety-five percent of the house still waiting for me,
I could barely stand up straight long enough to pick up the broom
and destroy the grasshopper in web-coated dust
that inspired a verse on the joys of not cleaning.
He is gone now.
But, the dust hedgehogs under the bed will live to pose
for pictures in a children's storybook at least one more day.
By Katherine A Minden copyright 2006
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