Refrigerator Sunset

The grocery list was buried,

behind a pizza coupon, under a magnet

shaped like a chipped ceramic apple.

And there it was, still holding on:

the sunset.

A picture from the Outer Banks, '09 I think,

when we still thought

that shade of orange meant something

more than just a day ending.

It's faded now, a washed-out bruise.

The scotch tape holding its top corners

is yellowed, cracking, brittle.

One side's peeled up, like a tiny wing.

It’s almost a relief,

that it’s still there,

collecting dust and grease-film

from the kitchen air.

Another year, and it’ll peel itself

right off, fall behind the kick plate,

or stick to the bottom of my shoe.