To my right, “they have good coleslaw.”
From across the table, “it’s chopped instead of shredded, that’s why.”
A minute later to my left, “they have good coleslaw here.”
And farther down, “yes, it’s the best coleslaw in town.”
It continued like this awhile longer,
the buzz of hearing aids, the comfort of repetition
and appreciation of ordinary things.
I think of complicated things,
and I feel alone.
I think of coleslaw and am filled with a sadness
that soon there may be one less friend at our table.
I look around the table and smile warmly
as I take mental snapshots of each face,
faces alive with friendship and creased with memory.
Eyes grow watery with age. I think
it has to do with all the loss, the body must let go
forever. Give me sadness any day.
It fills me with love,
and I overflow.
No comments:
Post a Comment