Welcome at the Table

You are not a daughter borrowed from some other family, not an extra place setting,

After the wedding flowers browned, a real relationship began: texts about train times,

The recipe card had three generations crowded in its margins. You added your note in green:

She did not need our name to make her worthy. She brought her own:

You stand beside the new door with paint on your sleeve, your own keys warm in your hand.

The bulletin says family and friends, so the doors must mean it. Make room for the aunt who raised him,