Vocation

I save nine seconds of light

bulb life leaving the work room

for the kitchen. That much dark

I can handle,

the doorway never moves.

It's a home office,

the dryer dings between cold calls,

work shirts drape the ironing board.

The value I bring, on days I don't

sell well, is this separating peppers from seeds

slicing avocados into smiles.

Thirty years I've nuanced accents over the phone.

Eight to five I remember father

was a salesman, but

it was mother taught me, before

paychecks mattered, 'Think

of eating, before you're hungry.'