My wife has left for work.
My child has left for school.

On the dining table,
plates and a few leftovers remain.

I wash the dishes, one by one.

The rice left in this bowl
still looks good to eat,
so I transfer it to a small container to save.

This side dish
has a strange amount left,
so I might as well just eat it now.

I wash each dish,
and wipe them dry with care.

I open the refrigerator.

Ah, we are out of milk.

I need to go buy some.

Perhaps, just before high-minded words like
work, business, or philosophy,
lies actual daily life.

Washing the dishes someone else ate from.
Not letting leftover rice go to waste.
Noticing that there is no milk.

Before trying to change the world,
one looks at what is inside the refrigerator.

And I believe that is precisely how it should be.