To Sit At The Kids' Table Poem by Rodney Reeves

I want to sit at the kids' table again
to eat turkey and dressing,
pumpkin pie with real whipped cream,
mashed potatoes and gravy
and turn my nose up at cranberries.

Moving 'up' was momentous
or seemed so at the time.
I'd watched when sisters and cousins
no longer talked about toys
but helped in the kitchen, made less noise.

But when you're in charge of food or decor,
it seems that death may be knocking.
One less adult ahead, one more child behind
makes the season depressing
not at all meek and mild.

So I want to return to the table spread
where visions of sugar plums danced in my head.
Perhaps in response to September's attacks
I'll drag my heels at the future and
fight to turn the clock back.