Kitchen Poem


                        A flurry of black fur

                        Our kitten, Hal, darts into the kitchen

                        In hot pursuit

                        Of a dead leaf

                        

                        Posturing on his back legs

                        He bats the leaf

                        It skids along the floor

                        Only to be picked up again

                        For another round of battle

                        

                        Hal leaps to the counter

                        Knocks over the dieffenbachia

                        Leaving a whiff of wet green

                        Spewing outward from the upturned foliage

                        

                        Meanwhile, pots clang

                        Dad readies the pan

                        From the rising dough

                        The smell of the yeast

                        Drifts around the room

                        

                        Sitting on the shiny chrome stove

                        The dough rises to fill the bowl

                        A fist in hand

                        Dad punches the dough flat

                        

                        He rhythmically rolls it into the shape of a disc

                        Paints it in red

                        Smothers it in white

                        And dots it with wafers of meat

                        

                        My mouth waters in anticipation

                        of pizza.