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#10 (The Countertop)
by Amanda J CobbClassic American blue in color,
faded through the years,
rather like the people who worked it
in days long gone by.
It has seen better times;
scratches and dents and cracks
riddle its once-smooth surface
in all directions -
a telling map of hard use.
There are worn spots, too,
molded out of flatness
by pairs of palms and elbows
leaning against it
in boredom or impatience.
Dust fills the corners and edges
around the register and machines on top.
New scratches and marks are made every day,
but it is always the same, endurant.
I can imagine myself coming back
in twenty years or so,
knowing the names and faces of people will change,
but that that blue countertop will still be there. 06/01/2003 Posted on 06/02/2003
Copyright © 2025 Amanda J Cobb
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Rachelle Howe on 11/09/03 at 05:22 PM how positively vivid. i canfeel myself running my fingers along the grain, eyes closed, breath inhaled... suspended. |
| Posted by Charles E Minshall on 02/02/06 at 04:33 PM I will never look at our countertop the
same way again. Fun!....Charlie |
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