family dinner night

 

husband hides in kitchen

with our baby son stirring

the same pot for therapy.

 

sauce is sauce is still sauce

bubbling, burning at the edges

 

I am tangoing in our living room

in some other-world with my family,

but what does that word mean: family?

 

not elbows on the table passing

baskets of warm bread, butter

coffee on, television off, talk

heavy with plans for the new year

 

those are thoughts for daydreams.

 

my son drinks milk from a bottle

and I am kneading our livelihood

nearby, adding sprinkles, making shapes

 

only my husband sees, smiles.

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7 Comments

Filed under Uncategorized, Writing

7 responses to “family dinner night

  1. Family is a state of being, you feel it in your bones, in your heart. When my family is gathered together all is well with the world for that moment in time. >

  2. I love this series of poems. Have you ever tried writing with your husband?

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