A Ring of Red

Nearing the highway,
I wondered if I'd
Turned off the stove.
I washed the
Omelet pan and spatula.
Slid the fork in the dishwasher.
No question.
But the burner?
Before the turn of
No return
I made a U and reluctantly drove home.
I would be late now,
All for my worry and faulty memory.
Where did it go?
How has something so simple become a
I saw smoke as I neared my neighborhood,
But my home seemed fine.
The stove was not glowing
A ring of red.
I am unsure what is most disturbing,
That it might have been on
Or that it wasn't.

© Poem Fix 2012

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