Ever Shining Heart

If you think this photographed chocolate "kiss" is the same as yesterday's, think again. I ate that one! I pulled its tag and slowly loosened its foil, unwrapped it tenderly, and then let it melt in my mouth. It was amazingly delicious.



Song of the Ironing Board

So many hands lay hot on my belly
over the years, and oh, how many ghosts
I held, their bodies damp and slack,
their long arms fallen to either side.
I gave till my legs shook, but then
they were up and away. Thus the lovely
soft nap of my youth was worn down.
But I gave of myself and was proud.

I was there for those Saturday
touch-ups, those solemn Sunday
Sacraments of Clorox in the church
of starch, the hangers ringing.
On stiffening legs I suffered
the steam iron's hot incontinence,
the melt-down of the rayon slacks,
my batting going varicose.

And it all came down to this:
a cellar window looking out
on February, where a cold wind
pinches clothespins down an empty line.
I lean against the wall and breathe
the drifting smoke of memory,
a stained chemise pulled over
my scorched yet ever shining heart.


from Valentines: Poems
by Ted Kooser,
former U.S. Poet Laureate
winner of the Pulitzer Prize in Poetry


Good night from Southern California.
Rosie (& Mr. Fun), aka Carol