Adjustments
By Kate Rhodes
The changes were unannounced.
There was no phone call
or written warning,
no time to prepare.
I noticed the windows first.
The dust trails from years of rain
had been wiped away.
Sunlight pooled at my feet.
The kitchen looked different too,
every surface gleamed.
The cupboards were full -
enough food to last for weeks.
The hole in the sleeve of my coat
had disappeared,
fabric healed overnight
by invisible stitches.
My clothes had been laundered.
Shirts hung in my wardrobe,
waiting to be chosen
in orderly lines.
Tulips swayed in the garden,
vivid as a child's painting.
Even the wood pigeons
sounded hopeful.
I rubbed my eyes,
tried to catch my breath.
Someone had placed
new thoughts inside my head.
For the first time in months
I felt ready to go outside,
test the soles
of my brand new shoes.