In the Kitchen by Alice G. Waldert

I hear him downstairs
emptying the dishwasher

I filled late last night.
Glasses and cups clink,

rinsed of wine we shared.
Plates, forks, and knives rattle,

assembling like good soldiers
waiting to be of service.

We are alone in a house
that once sustained the shouts

and laughter of two girls and a boy,
but they outgrew this domain.

The boy lives many roads away,
the girls, adventurers–

live as ex-pats in foreign lands.
Our house now empty,

I welcome any sounds that replicate
the noise we made

when we all basked like sunning seals
in front of the TV

and believed
we’d always stay that way.



Alice G. Waldert’s poetry has appeared in Tiny Seed, The Voice of Eve, Poet's Choice, Sisyphus Lit, and Survivor Lit. She is a former humanitarian officer for the United Nations and is an adjunct English Professor at Westchester Community College in New York. She holds an MFA from Manhattanville College.