Eating Together

Thin porcelain plates reflecting chandeliered light bulbs,

Cracked plastic cups filled with filtered water,

Utensils lain adjacent on woven place mats,

Light brown cork boards topped by tonight’s dishes,

Steam hovering lightly over peanut-butter wood;

Six mismatched chairs for five murmuring stomachs,

Faded white rimmed door smeared by sunlight,

Dulled blue-white tiles lost in symmetry;

Peeled potatoes and grilled pork chops,

Sautéed onions and scattered green peppers,

Barbequed chicken breast and boiled asparagus,

Vibrant corn and richly wrinkled peas;

Five family members sitting down together,

Eating together so we aren’t eating alone,

Eating together so that we can eat alone.