by Jay Willett ’20
The crimson tablecloth sprang up with the cold fall breeze,
My great uncle had opened the window for a smoke,
But the wind rejected it, spiraling it in our full faces.
We were all there, hadn’t happened for a while.
We all lived across the country, some in others.
But this holiday was different,
My heart hung on the edge of my seat,
We weren’t brought together by celebration
Or new life
It took time, nostalgia, and misfortune.
We laughed, at each other, with each other,
Smiling because the wind outside was finally outside for a moment.
When the meal was finished, the kids cheered on for dessert,
While the men hollered for more beer,
The women grinned and sipped more of their wine,
And I sat still waiting for auntie to bring back the most delicious apple pie
I was lucky that I got to live near her all these years,
She lived close, unlike the rest.
Her apple pie would be the star of dinner
Its slices would glisten like wet autumn leaves outside
She smiled as she placed the platter
I took my eyes off the dessert for a second,
Her eyes were locked on the wind outside and sighed,
“A shame we can’t do this again next year.”