Best Tablemates Poems

There we all were, around the table while
my oldest son offered up his prayer
once more to the God he creates,
as I have done those years ago,
when all of us could squeeze that venerable
omniscient glory into one (rather noisy)
tiny space.

We, loving each other, held hands of...

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Grandma Francie had been a preschool teacher too long
She packed me a lunch one time when I was in sixth grade.
What are those? My tablemates asked as I rolled them out.
They were tiny bugs made out of apples, celery, dates and raisins.
I was humiliated and...

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