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Emperor’s Kitchen

An early evening in October. The six of us sit around a table, my husband in a wheelchair. He faces the windows, listens to our exclamations about color; how the yellow leaves are like Christmas tree lights as sundown dapples the scene. I chat with our friends though part of me is removed. My husband remains quiet.

blackbirds
through the darkening trees
wing the last light 

The food sizzles among the clatter of cutlery. My cashew chicken is tasteless. Water pours from a pitcher, a chair scrapes the wood floor. I ask my husband if he’d like his egg roll cut in half, steam pouring from the shell. He nods. I scoop the filling aside, fill his fork and feed him. The hum of conversation stops as the table holds its breath.

scraping the bottom
of the bowl
an empty spoon

About the Author

Mary Jo Balistreri

Jo Balistreri began her creative life as a pianist and harpsichordist. In 2005, she began writing free-verse poetry after losing her hearing and her ability to play music, and in 2015 registered for a mentoring program through the Haiku Society of America. She has since published widely and in 2019 was included in A New Resonance 12. http://maryjobalistreripoet.com/


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