In the Kitchen

Women of a certain age
(Or born at a certain time
In a certain era, milieu, set of expectations...)
Can find their way around other women’s kitchens.

It’s true. The potholders are in the drawer next to the stove.
The mugs are on the shelf above the coffee maker.
The juice glasses and tumblers near the refrigerator.
Plates stored in cupboards above the counter, pots and pans below.

The spices and herbs and sugar and flour live in the same cabinet
As the rice and pasta.
And if the trash can is not under the sink,
It’s in a special cabinet to the right.

Within a day or two
I feel as at home in another woman’s kitchen
As I do in my own.
The sympathetic organ of organization

Leads me on to discover the can opener,
The dish towels and the paring knives
Where they are meant to be—
Waiting for my hand, not needing my eye.

What is this innate affinity for place, a sharing of spaces
Where we can set ourselves down new each time
And reach out for what we already know.

Louise Coffin
Swarthmore