a poem from an exhibit of art dolls*
All around the dining room and down the hall, dozens of smiling
Carmen Mirandas in every imaginable outfit witness this meal:
They watch the diners tasting, the payers and the waiters bustling
watch Mr. & Mrs. with red wine in shining glasses, enjoying
the bouquet, the color, the dry spark of it, not caring if the legalists see.
Carmen and her sisters listen, ears peeking from wrapped
hair, smiling artfully, hopeful, as the beautiful youths speak
of their effusive readiness, so eager to leap into possibility's lap.
And the dark haired friend of the family, with his I'm-still-alive smile
innocent in it all, saying little, enjoying the occasion.
All around the dining room and down the hall
the talk winds on, in French, in Spanish, a hint of German
English in multiple accents, and food, such food. And the
Auntie in her white-haired frailty, tasting the chocolate cake
and the cousin in her exuberant reserve, looking back at
the dolls looking, listening to the doll talk from their painted mouths
as they survey humanity with artist eyes looking
all around the dining room and down the hall.
And it was good, the dolls agreed. It was all deliciously good.
- Mar Walker
http://www.good-news-cafe.com/Gallery/paulabrinkmanmarch/ See the picture---> which is a webshot from of the Good News Website: