The kitchen witch
The kitchen witch
by Frank Scarangello
The kitchen witch
still hangs in the window
dangling from a string
along with spirits and distant echos;
she moves ever so slightly
as if a ghost had passed a little too close
The sun shines on her
and on the button the witch always wears
I heart Rhode Island
Empty rooms
now waiting for new life
furniture marks on carpet
ashes in the fireplace
Stillness in the living room
sounds of Jobim
remembering Gamboa
embedded in the walls
The bedroom silent
but for faint murmurs
of passion and love
the children didn’t hear
He takes the kitchen witch
and with one last look
closes the door and
carries it to the car
She sits near to him
on the front seat
next to the bronze box
engraved with pine needles
And the kitchen witch says
“You mustn’t look back”
as he points the blue jeep
South toward the sun.
I read this as a very tender and delicate leave-taking of one house for relocation in another; the kitchen witch, an emblem of good luck, which of course would have to be taken along to bless the new dwelling; the photo, a disservice to the poem.
that photo, especially given the back story, seriously should reconsider not being campy.
Hi Randall – yes indeed it was a leave taking. My wife passed ten years ago this month. I sold the house and with my two daughters started a new life in Florida. My girls finished college, one went to law school and they both married. The kitchen witch hangs in my eldest daughter’s kitchen today.
Thanks for reading and commenting. Regards
Ah, Cerebella, our default antagonist. What would a post be wo/ you.
often, puke.