Ode to our refrigerator
Look what you hold inside, you stainless steel superconductor of cold. There’s the homemade lentil soup Mira made last night. And not far along Your offering shelf, anothe r of her dishes in a container, ready to go to work.
The Brita pitcher, orange juice, the creamer we always return to you empty. And in your drawers? The Artisan cheddar, the fresh prosciutto, and the other goodies we use on our bread and cheese platters.
And centered on your top shelf, my lunch bag. Lovingly prepared by my lady as a favor, because I went to work on that online course for the coveted thirty-above-master’s salary differential.
Oh, you LG electric ice locker of love. You hold so many artifacts of love within. And what do we do? Open you up. Take and give back. Close you up. Often without a thought.
But where would we be without you?
Cricket songs
no sign of the moment
the light goes out
how many years since
I wondered about that?
For dVerse Poets Pub Poetics—chillin out
Frank J. Tassone 
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