I’m hungry for a house full
of hi Mom hugs and fleet kisses,
catching up over slow glasses of red
wine tart with dry humor

Many hands making fast work
in the cramped kitchen, voices
raised above the clamoring of pans
with remember when’s, inside jokes,

a sprinkle of bickering for spice,
our bellies simmering with laughter
that bubbles up and overflows,
making a meal together that fills me 

with richness to savor long after
the front door shuts behind them
and the last car pulls away.