I unwind from a plate
yellowed newspaper from late February
and gaze into the dusty white surface
like looking through a photo album,
as my grandmother's china becomes mine.
I gently lift from the crate
dinners at Easter
gatherings in late November, and
a family of memories embracing these dishes.
we stood at your sink after Thanksgiving
in your pale blue kitchen
with stars in the counter top
and a sequined calendar hanging on the wall.
my sink full of hot bubbles,
I wash away the dust of time
from dishes which waited for my home,
gently massaging the silver-rimmed surface
with my tattered cloth.
One by one, I wash each dish,
and storing away,
my cabinets now full
(First published in Welcome Home, vol. 15, No. 7; July 1998)