Sep 10, 2015
kitchen witch
Pots simmer on unlit eyesTheir contents varied and indiscernible Potted plants sit atop every raised surfaceTheir running vines covering the corners and floorsA sudden splash in the sink has her giggling”That’s just Ted” she saysA toad peeks it’s head from under a soapy plateShe hums as she sweeps the floorsThough they never seem to be truly cleanShe smiles as butterflies flit in through open windowsHer house seems a jungle and dirty to someBut to her it’s her little havenWild though it may beAnd it suits her perfectly