Dining A' La Carte
"Would you like barbeque chicken,
or country steak with gravy?"
"Uh, huh."
"You want both?"
"Uh huh."
Her tablemate drools, bottom lip
hanging. He stares at his menu,
waiting for someone to take his order.
An aide rolls a wheel chair to the table
for four. "Stay there!"
Her harsh tone seems inappropriate
for the tiny lady with frizzy curls.
"Mom, what would you like for dessert,
butterscotch pudding or chocolate cake?"
"Uh huh."
"You want both?"
"Uh huh."
Leftward movement draws my eye.
Frizzy curls is on the move.
She's booking out of the dining hall,
fast as her feet can peddle.
The trays arrive. I unwrap cutlery,
pour milk, place Mom's bib around her neck.
Her table-mate digs in, unassisted.
Mother stares at her plate, picks up
her fork, pokes at her food.
The fourth place at the table
remains empty.
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