Sauce Pan

As the dusk lulled
The turbulent sauce pan;
A hiss form the kitchen
Gushed mutely through
The thin air

Waxed slender legs walk
Unto the terminus;
To toss the contents
Of the blue pan;
This time its egg yolk

The coffee mingles
With the current around;
Still smelling of eggs
Made yesterday
Evening

Silence descends through
The mute azure eyes;
And rests beside
The pelvic arch;
On an archaic sofa

Like many others
This evening is no special;
Not bringing any thoughts
To the mind, resting in
Abstruse coma

One such evening
Punctuated this life;
The life which now
Tosses only memories;
In the sauce pan