Why Do We Set the Table?

By NaBeela Washington

At what temperature does blood

begin to boil? Thicken into a

roux, slip between bits of

basil, minced garlic,

orecchiette;

Permeate chunks of spicy kielbasa,

bind a dash of salt, pepper, bubbles

roiling forth, then dissipating,

heat lowered to a hush;

Congeal from the shock of cool

clay dishes as a small mound

is delicately plated with a

large plastic spoon;

Spurt steam, burning both

nostrils, as we lean in to say

grace, my father’s seat empty,

placemat bare.

Copyright Credit: Poem copyright ©2022 by NaBeela Washington, “Why Do We Set the Table?” from crazyhorse, Number 101, Spring 2022.