The meaning of life sneaks in
the open kitchen window
you forgot to close last night:
a cool breeze caressing the back
of your neck, sweaty
from closed curtains and frying bacon,
so you linger for an extra minute,
feeling cleaner than a second dose of detergent
to make sure all the grease is gone,
but also feeling wiser than cracked boiled eggs,
only to realize such epiphanies
and are swept away like crumbs
by those who are kept awake
by dirty dishes left in the sink.
Richard LeDue (he/him) currently lives in Norway House, Manitoba. He is a Best of the Net nominee. He is the author of three chapbooks and two full length poetry collections. His latest collection, “Dollar Store Blues and Other Cheap Words,” was released in March 2022 from Alien Buddha Press.