Yellow Love-Note
Yesterday,
I scalded myself in your kitchen
When I tried to catch the smell of you
In my hands
In the steam rising from the tea kettle
Yesterday,
The snow was thick and deep outside your window
And
The icicles hung down past the curtains
And
The world was many kinds of silent and covered with a drapery of white
Gauze
That was the snow
And I hid myself in your kitchen
To watch the snow fall down
Yesterday,
I remembered for the first time
That you drank tea when you were cold
And told me that it kept away the cold
And told me it would make your hands warm
To drink tea
So I put the kettle on
Yesterday,
I looked around your kitchen
And saw your eyes reflected in the pots hung above
The stove
And felt you, light and kind
When I put your apron on
And heard you, singing to the radio, when I
Listened to your favourite program
Your opera program
And turned it up loud
And danced my way to the rack with the boxes of
Tea bags
And tasted you in the hot soup I made
From the old cans in your pantry
That you never cleaned
Because you just never did
You were there
Yesterday,
I thought I could smell you in the hot steam
That rose from the tea kettle
Where I could see the shiny rosy roundedness
Of your bottom lip when you smiled
And I thought I could catch you
If only I was quick enough
And hold you close by
And talk to you
And remember to tell you that my new paintings
Don't sell
And my old children
Don't write
And that means I forget their names
Yesterday,
I put my hands quick as I could
Into the steam coming from the kettle
To catch the smell of you
And it was hot
Hot
Hot!
And I missed
I let go of you
And you went into the air like smoke in summer
Where I couldn't hope to catch you
And there was I
And my hands hurt
So I ran them under the cold tap the way your brother taught me
But they haven't stopped hurting
And I'm drinking tea now, hot tea
That tastes of lemon
And honey
And you
And I'm listening to the radio now
That sounds of sad
And happy
And you
And the mirror over the bathroom sink has cracks in it
Like your wispy-white hair
And the wood floor under my bare feet has rough spots on it
Like your freckles-and-spots skin
But I don't smell you
Because the steam is gone
Melted into the air like wind in winter
And my hands hurt
Because
Yesterday,
I scalded myself in your kitchen
When I tried to catch the smell of you
In my
Hands
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