Kitchen table

I left the kitchen table when I was only seven years old

The plastic table cloth was rolled up one last time, and Mother served no more pancakes

The equality of the Nordic kitchen was replaced by a short dark man, called Adam

Who cooked meals for our family and served platters and dishes at a long dining table


People came to the dining room, hands behind their backs, to speak to my father

There were no more farmhands teasing sleepy children over late eggy breakfasts

Our father grew distant at the far end of the table and we kept stories at our end

We learned to eat backed beans and bacon, and then it was time for boarding school


Dhaka 2013

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