A fresh start

Nothing adorns a home better

than the sound of laughter 

and the radiance of smiles.

There are some bums on chairs 

and more on the floor sharing space with Monsteras and Orchids and Tulips.

For a brief instant, the sun washed them all.

I (and two others) saw it. 

A private privilege — the magnanimity of the sun, these flowers and my people. 

On the stove,

medium heat, 

a tall pot with

a simmering stew.

I offered them a bowl,

But they filled mine. 

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Poetry Month 2025, Day 6