Mama Brings Her Roast In on a Large Porcelain PlatterBone white russets in an enamel, red bowl. Steaming, quartered and peeled with parsley and the scent of tarragon nearby. Pa in his undershirt pulling Jake's scruff, pulling open his jaw to examine inscisors and gum—calling for bone.
And Mam'd bring her roast in on a large, porcelain platter. Pa'd slice it so it'd show a layered heart. Brown, pink, to red—the broken veins sprawling, distinct, dark—his unstubbled cheek. Pa'd knife and fork the slices, one or two to each place, till I'd see the brown brick church, all the edge of flowers long since carved away.