This, This...

Whenever it is dark in the house
I turn on a small light for comfort
a small light in the kitchen
over the sink.

In winter when day fades
I pull a chair to a window
to read by the light of sunset
news of a distant world,

and light from the kitchen
collects on the floor in dim puddles.
It reminds me that we are poor.
It reminds me of my mother

cutting sprouts from potatoes,
how she would call when I complained
""Come. Look!"" water pouring from the tap
""Look, this we have in abundance.""