strangers come
bearing cold chicken
runny potatoe salads
passing off store-bought sweet potatoe pie
as homemade
labeling their wares with masking tape
indentification
as if it were pieces of alabaster
not ceramic dishwasher-to-oven safe cookware
strangers come
and drink stale coffee in chipped mugs
the only kind clean
in the kitchen cabinet
at my grandma's house
a small herd of
women in their sunday best
circle the table
lay out the feast
commemorate the death of my father
with casseroles
