Dinner Invitation 1969 Poem by Terry Collett

Sophia's mother
brings in
the dinner plates
and lays them
on the table
where containers
with an assortment
of vegetables
and meat are set.

Sophia looks at me
I look at her.

Her father sits
at the top end
eyeing the table cloth.

Her mother sits down
and the father says grace
he closes his eyes
as does his wife
and Sophia
closes hers.

I close mine
but allow
a slit of space
to see when Sophia
opens hers again.

This dinner invitation
is an uneasy event
like having a meal
at Stalin's table
or Al Capone's.

The grace ends
with a gruff amen.

All eyes are open
the mother speaks
in Polish in chilly tones.

The father looks at her
then at me
unsmiling he looks
at Sophia.

He says something
to her in Polish
she replies.

I sit and watch
the lips move
wishing there were
English dialogue lines
above their heads
to inform me
of the scene.

The father nods his head
and his plump hands
indicate for me
to partake
and put food
upon my plate.

The others take food
with tongs or spoons.

I timidly venture out
and take a little
of this and that
until my plate
is set out
like a small
child's meal.

I sense an uneasiness
at first hot then cold
like one who's ill.