Thursday, January 26, 2006

Grace for dinner

The meal is on the table

Her fist
Settles in his
soft warm
open palm.

Her fist
Feels the hand
Pull away in disgust
Not wanting a tight fist

In quiet she offers her open palm,
To receive his hand.
She returns her palm
warmed by his, quietly to her lap

Her eyes open
Her mouth smiles.
Exotic beans, bright broccoli
Are on her plate.


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