Casual Exclusion
Location
Chill cinnamon rolls and cherry pie
go down until I feel ill
At a plastic table my siblings
are resolute
Crusts of fresh white bread
crack of the cue ball in another room
Warmth, and loneliness
that smells of potpourri
I curl into a chair with a sketchbook
carved bars digging into my back
Aunts, uncles, cousins laugh and mill
Dad scolds me for taking so long to remember
their names
Orange Fanta, Jesus’ painted face
looking down
and I am cold, their casual exclusion
a prelude to swelling joints
Still searching
for forgiveness