Today’s poem comes from my recent mood.
I used to watch Nigella Lawson’s cooking shows all the time. Even though I was vegetarian then, I loved watching her cook and seeing her dinner parties. How I longed to hold dinner parties.
I’ve done a few small ones. I gained a reputation for great baking (even after I went vegan) through dinner parties, potlucks, and birthday parties.
When I throw parties, they just tend to be not quite…I don’t know. I suppose I need to know more people. Invite 100 people and maybe 20 will come. I don’t know 100 people here I would invite to my parties. The ones who do come to my parties are so appreciated.
I just feel so….
The Dinner Party
Dinner for two,
dinner for three,
dinner for four, five, or six
the domestic goddess fantasy.
The plates shine bare
forks and spoons glint on the wooden table worn
cotton napkins, hand-made, twist
in anticipation, unused.
Meatless main dishes, comforting veg
steamy biscuits await, await
and the dessert, the sweet baking
my gleaming reputation chilling for the end.
But the empty mouths, the empty chairs
like a Samhain feast for the dead.
I stare into the space of conversations
I raise my glass instead
cheers a toast a breaking
a little bit at a time a sobbing
shaking shoulders no one ever has the time.
© 2015 by Robin A. Sams