Kate’s (everyday) plate.
GOLF – not only not an acronym for Gentlemen Only, Ladies
Forbidden.
Grandparents gave Mother and Uncle names
they would never be able to pronounce, distinguished?/able?,
Englishable, to be inserted where GOLF names were
allowed
(a place.) Then extracted, with each rough call
to table, when culture flavours signature dishes
(plated) in native and alien colours. Extracting
history snippets
as if we were wishes around a bird table: in the nuts, honey
and apple (Haroset) or in tears of horse ra (dishes.)
In the names of birds taken, their songs and wings to grieve
in.
Or of a tree, imagined roots to build shelter foundation.
Bird or a movie star? Now we are: The Ladies who
Lunch. Lunch
daily on her last bone china plate stamped with The Crown.
The hallmark blessing before eating, and tucked, tea
towel-coddled in gratitude on her top shelf. High
above
the ancient back-home chipped make-do-with-it gifts
of everyday, back then, not nearly as much loved.
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