Writing / Jan. 27, 2007 at 2:58 pm

The Stool in the Kitchen Spoke to Me.

By Katy Witmer

My ego stepped out for a moment
Lit its cigarette, spat in the bushes.

I slid onto the stool in the kitchen and looked out the window.

Is it possible?
I could simply be a garden hoe.
Leaning there, against the shed
Wooden handle,
Brand new,
Waiting.
One day,
In the spring,
The gardener may pick me up
And I will find a purpose
In weeding the moist earth,
Making beautiful the garden.

Then my ego,
Having stamped out that
Last burning Marlboro,
Returns to remind me
That I believe I am the gardener
And not simply the tool
Of a greater genius.

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Click the link,
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Comments

  1. this poem speaks to me…;)

    Emily Hoffman

    January 28, 2007 at 12:41 am

  2. good!! haha i’m glad..

    Katy

    January 28, 2007 at 11:18 am

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