washing life

he watches intently
from the comfort
of the leather sofa
as his mother carefully erases
the memory of another
meal prepared and eaten
pots, pans, plates
knives, forks and spoons
all reflect back at her
a beauty now long gone
she passes them to his father
who with several sharp tugs
wipes clean what has been
replacing it with the drabness
of the present
reminding them both
that nothing last forever