No, really... a backlog perhaps but I haven't forgotten!

Thoughts on kitchens

You are the breeze that shoos garlic skins
to underneath the fridge. I watch them drift
urgently to their resting place, dream lazily
of a future when they are finally discovered again,
brittle and crackled. It will be many years
from now, I think, as this house is home and home
means not cleaning under permanent appliances.

Your hands are pungent and you’re dressed
in a pinny I used to wear for Home Economics at school.

Time treats us well, I think, in the end.
Even if we end up papery and brittle like your favourite Grandma’s hands.