the table stops me
a sudden image appears
brown wood, oversized, grand

small me on the floor 
playing underneath
legs with lion claws

beside a floor radio cabinet
an upright piano 
& a glass door hutch with dishes

a case on top of the hutch displays
silver cutlery lined in blue velvet
for the first grandchild to marry 

grandparents, parents, aunt, uncle
all the adults in Nana's family
fit around the big round table 

aroma of the roast turkey 
twenty-two pounds & stuffed
an Easter feast for thirteen

i spit in a napkin
mushy canned peans
when nobody looks
 
the dark table 
huge
in memory

giant as Granddaddy 
who only reached my shoulder
once I grew up

the furniture 
of my past shrinks 
in my aunt's cellar
                        

	After Rain by Kazim Ali

With thick strokes of ink the sky fills with rain
Lightning in the grass, spring flowers shine in pounding rain

Wind plays tag with a skittering brown leaf
Ringing chimes rock bare trees in time with gusting rain

Salt wind works pruning magic, shears a topiary
the cold, a thief of croaker song, silences freezing rain

Storm clouds cloak twilight in morning, midday, afternoon
Soft soil topples an old tree on top of the house in driving rain

A dour shitbrindle day—Ingrid, shake off the doldrums, go outside
Don’t let the leaky sky prevent a visit to flowers in mizzling rain