Sitting All Evening Alone in the Kitchen -- Ted Kooser

(Poem #181)Sitting All Evening Alone in the Kitchen The cat has fallen asleep,  the dull book of a dead moth  loose in its paws. The moon in the window, the tide  gurgling out through the broken shells  in the old refrigerator. Late, I turn out the lights.  The little towns on top of the stove  glow faintly neon,  sad women alone at the bar. -- Ted Kooser