SILVER PLATE AND MIKASA CHINA
They were my mother's and I inherited them
only because I was not a daughter
and her daughter-in-law had defiant tastes.
The silver is plate, Potemkin sterling, but all the same
it soon will need cleaning, and I can smell the memory
of Noxon and the flannel cloth--
and the china has an ornately vulgar Rococo pattern
to remind me of Kubrick's interiors in *Barry Lyndon*.
They've been stashed away for over nine years and
when I take them out to move them
the dust will scatter and I wonder as I wander
what I shall find stashed inside dusty recollection.
KW/12-22-09
[A souffle hard-won, facing a solitary move to Pennsylvania from New
Jersey after 33 years--hard-won because the only thing more frightening
than moving is staying put.)
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Ken Wolman
http://awfulrowing.wordpress.com
http://opensalon.com/blog/kenneth_wolman
http://wearethecure.org/friends/cids-memory-p-394.html
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