dinner by Catherine Grossman


it seems impossible now
I knew my lines so well

not actual lines mine
was not a speaking part

I’d walk down the hall
toward the dining room

its eight place settings
I’d approach the door

meet my father’s eyes
who’d raise a finger

circle it in the air and I’d turn
180 degrees walk back out

to comb my unruly hair


Catherine Grossman’s work can be found in Lilith, Tipton Review, Flying Island, Apricity, Claw and Blossom, Lit Pub and elsewhere. She is the recipient of a Golden Key Graduate Award and studied poetry at Warren Wilson College. She lives in West Lafayette, Indiana.

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