Grandma's Living Room Poem by Val Brooklyn Rogers

Playful LITTLE sundrops shining through the
Window pane.
Maybe it's my imagination come to haunt me
Again. Searching round the room I see
Nothing more to amuse myself than these
Sundrops which have come out to play.
Grandma's in the kitchen cooking. The
Aroma.

Plastic on the LIVING ROOM sofa and chairs,
Seems as no one lived there, but when you
Peeled your self away it. Made a mournful
Squashing sound. The same when sitting
Down. I sat silently toying with the dust
In the air for a time. Until my stomach
Bubbled with hunger again.