Four Legs Two Leaves
I learned how to write my name at a kitchen table.
I practiced my cursive at the kitchen table.
I did my homework at a kitchen table.
I learned how to cook and cut and chop at a kitchen table.
I learned to paint and watercolor with my mom.
I watched her sew fantastic things from the kitchen table.
I have sipped coffee at a kitchen table,
talked and listened.
I used to pretend to be a grownup
sitting at the table
I’m not pretending anymore.
My tears have fallen at kitchen tables
hearts have broken
love and food shared, cigarettes smoked and rolled
margaritas salt and rocks
placing plate fork and knife
coffee cups chipped but loved
we sit elbow to elbow squeezed in tight
always room for one more