Potluck Grace

by The Bright Voice

Original EveryPoem Studio house-voice poem.

Bless the dish with no label, the pie leaning slightly left, the recipe remembered differently by three generations. Bless the friend who brought ice, the child counting paper plates, the widower taking a small portion because this is his first crowded table since winter. May we notice who has not eaten, who needs a chair, and who would rather take food home. Let abundance become attention.
66 words · 13 lines · Free Verse
church potluckfamilyfriendshipanaphoraimageryhumorfree-verse

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