Dinnertimes

Remember when we were all together,
crowded around the dining room table
or along those two benches on the porch?

Elbow to sweaty elbow,
we were so embedded in love,
we didn’t know yet
that its absence was an option,
didn’t know what the world
had in store for any of us.

It was so comfortable for me
to disappear into the rest of us.
There was always someone else
to do the talking
while I picked at my food
or at the dripping candle wax
and listened,
listened.

I don’t remember what was said-
it just seemed ordinary at the time.
But now I understand
that it was at the heart
of everything.

By Maria Brady-Smith

Picture by Mike Smith