He sat the table, fresh
kid,
waiting for his
dinner,
pushing back the
war
now so far away.
His big brother smiled
glad to see him safe,
when she walked
in,
carrying a steaming plate
of the best fried chicken
either had ever seen.
The aroma awoke in his memory
soft Ohio nights,
God's righteous thunder
rumbling
gentle rains cooling the hot
August sky,
when Mom carried in our
dinner,
fried chicken and mashed
potatoes,
safety and
love.
And looking at his brother's new
wife,
he smiled and at last said,
"welcome to the family!"