I lay the cloth, smooth it with my palm.
I arrange the blooms, fuss them into place.
I deal the plates, space them evenly.
I fold and refold the napkins, creasing them into flowers,
then pockets, then simply rectangles.
I align silverware, savoring the cadence of small fork,
large fork–knife and spoon–small fork,
large fork–knife and spoon.
I load the platters, stack meat and cheese,
balance berries and sliced apples.
I heap rolls in baskets and mound bowls
with steaming squash, beans and potatoes.
And I am ready.

I've invited them all, and they arrive:
the unkempt and odoriferous,
the testy and contentious,
the naive and trusting,
the confused and lonely,
the ardent and passionate,
the naked, the disfigured,
the outcast, the discounted,
the content (though few in number).

We all sit down 'round the table.
And (slowly at first) eat, talk, even laugh.
Plates heap high. Silverware clinks.
All these selves, finally together.

Text and image © 2010 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.