Instant Ramen

Metal lids of pots and pans clink

as I put them into the cabinet

For a moment, the clashing of culinary swords

replaces the sound of the wind

Early March snowstorm hits windows

then falls from cold glass

to colder ground

The house shivers and sways

The cat on the couch

picks his head up and listens

Nature’s breath stabilizes

He goes back to restfulness

I finish with the vessels

and close the door gently

so as to keep the child’s peace

in the quiet of the adjacent bedroom

Surrounded by little breaths of snow

and flurries of youth,

I am the last bit of ChapStick

I am the pebble stuck between shoes’ grips

The sleeping creatures throughout my house

poke me out with the end of a plastic fork