Oven Light
Sweet naivety.
Unwritten recipes.
Orange kitchen on a dark afternoon.
Somewhere north, somewhere cold.
Somewhere I once called home.
Little socks on slippery floors.
Pots and pans.
Verses and chords.
Little band, little man,
waving a spatula sword
What magic
to make something of nothing.
What magic
to love and bring forth existence.
What magic
to be old and stale
and never eaten.
When I’m lost after dark,
find me by the oven light.
I’ll watch the flour grow.
Sarah Alessandrini is a recent graduate of the English program at Syracuse University, and her work has been previously published in The Washington Square Review, Illuminations, Brave Voices, and Perception magazines.