Rena Masson
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
advice givin’
debates had
memories made
love and food shared, cigarettes smoked and rolled
margaritas salt and rocks
friends made
laughs had
papers signed

stories told
placing plate fork and knife
mis-matched silver-ware
coffee cups chipped but loved

we sit elbow to elbow squeezed in tight
every night
always room for one more