Opening the refrigerator door, light mesmerizes me.
Out of the whiteness comes security found in indecision.
Somehow, amongst the milk gallon, cheese wrapped
Individually, tapioca pudding in 4 ounce cartons,
Sliced ham in a plastic ice cream carton serving
Double time now . . . well, there are just so many
Choices. It’s not food I want. Yet, staring into the light
I keep waiting for something to come out that will
Give me something I don’t already have. I never could
Practice being satisfied. That’s why I’m looking for something
More in the refrigerator and on its door. For the moment
Slumped backed, white t-shirt tucked into blue pajama bottoms,
I’m transfixed, my brain motor out of gear, humming in neutral,
Waiting for my hand to grab something, or close the door, and
Go back to the TV, where, in another light, I become something else.
