POEM: The Oven

I wonder if the oven knew

that nothing had cooked?

Just set to pre-heat and left on by mistake.

A changed mind; a different dinner.

Switched off forty minutes later just as it was switched on:

Empty.

Enough time to heat up a meal,

using the same amount of energy,

but nothing to show for the effort.

And if the oven doesn’t know

when its time has been wasted,

and it’s purpose left unfulfilled,

do we?