Repast
Madeleine Dale
The spoons are all dressed in black.
The bread wears a veil of mould.
Will you pour the wine?
My glass is full of sunlight.
My mouth tastes of grave-dirt.
Will you strip the silver knives from their damask?
It is as though I spat out every mouthful of earth onto the coffin myself.
Will you eat?
My throat is full, an old well bricked up with the bones still in.
My plate is blurred with dust.
Will you sit in the draped chair?
I have set the table for two, even now.
Cauldron Anthology 39