was my ma
at the school
Christmas dinner.
I thought I’d be
the only one
without a
real ma,
but two other motherless girls came.
We served turkey,
chestnut dressing,
sweet potatoes, and brown gravy.
Made it all ourselves
and it came out
pretty good,
better than the Christmas dinner I made for my
father
at home,
where we sat at the table,
silent, just the two of us.
Being there without Ma,
without the baby,
if I’d just remembered the cranberry sauce.
My father loved Ma’s special cranberry sauce.
But she never showed me how to make it.
January 1935