Also, a kitchenette

by Trish Saunders

One day, I will live in a kitchenette flat even smaller than this one. My hair will be coarse and dark gray, like my appaloosa mare’s hair from long ago. I’ll cut it short. I will wear my grandmother’s beads, if I can still find them. My neighbors will listen politely when I stop them in the hall. I will know I have grown very old when the image of me as a young person is only a distant memory.

6S

Trish Saunders’s poetry is featured or forthcoming in Chiron Review, Galway Literary Review, The American Journal of Poetry, and Right Hand Pointing, among others. Twice nominated for Best of the Net, she formerly worked as an editor and copywriter. She enjoys writing everything except bios. She lives in Seattle.