Babcia
the prune soup
is dripping
on the table where we sit
slumped in pink Sunday
dresses and navy ties
missing spoons
forks thrown aside
and black cherry soda
seeps into the crocheted table cloth
you brought home from Poland
where even now that stains
cover it whole
pieces of bread crumbs
are scattered around, you still feel
as though each drop is a sin
that we must
pray away
Bio: Teresa Kietlinski is a freelance writer and children's
book designer living and creating in New Jersey. Her work has appeared
in Poetre Midwest, Art Calendar, The Anthologist literary
journal, and various other publications.
Contact Teresa Kietlinski at teresakie@verizon.net
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