remnants

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it is the morning
of the next day —
I have come down-
stairs to the kitchen
to make coffee . . .
the room still
smells of pork chops
and laughter;
the empty glasses —
both wine and water —
stand like a skyline
on the old farm table
that soaked it all in . . .
we gathered for
no other reason
than to gather,
made a memory
for the sake of
remembering,
which is what I’m
doing as I sit alone
with my coffee
and the skyline
and our little grey
dog sniffs the floor
looking for leftovers.

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4 COMMENTS

  1. These are my favorite types of evenings. I rarely have or attend them anymore-thank you for reminding me of past good times with good friends.

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  2. Some of my happiest moments are exactly so…you captured our life! One of us does fix up the coffee pot after loading the dishwasher, but the glasses and sometimes extras are better tackled in the light of day. We often do big old thick chops and offer a choice of tapenade or BBQ sauce to go on top.

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  3. This is as good in print as it was when you read it to me, Milton. I love the skyline metaphor and, even better, you and the dog looking for leftovers. I hope you both found some. Let’s get out there on the road soon. Light out for the territory near home.

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