Ceasefire

by Terence Winch

My love is upstairs heating macaroni.
She is also making bowls of soup
and covering them with paper towels.
She has items in the fridge that have
been there a long time and that I know
better than to ask about.

My love has left her clothes in the washing
machine for days.  She dries her things
by draping them on the furniture.  Come
to our house and you will see underthings
dangling from chairs and cabinet knobs,
little flags of peace signaling a truce.