Aug 12

All-American Dinner

Surrounded by family,
that's the best thing, isn't it?

As I place the mountain
of corn-on-the-cob in front of everyone,
Dad starts to serve the venison
he'd marinated and then grilled.

I made mashed potatoes, too
and worried I hadn't made enough.

I was reassured that I,
in fact, did.

Rolling the corn in butter,
we burnt our hands.
Sipping from cups,
we cooled our throats with milk.

We tossed the finished cobs onto
a spare plate
as we reached
for seconds.

There was no more steak,
but Mom had had a filet mignon.

Dad and I were thanked when dinner
was over,
putting our plates and forks and spoons
in the dishwasher.

Then I went for a ride.
I had gone about seven miles
when Mom caught up to me.
We rode together for a while.

I could feel myself burning the calories off
as my worn Converse pushed into the pedals.
I ached in my black cycling jersey and padded leggings,
as I rode up and down hills.

I went almost seventeen miles
after dinner.
It took just under
an hour and a half.

When Mom and I came home,
Dad was asleep on the porch.
My sisters were upstairs,
and my brother was taking a shower.

We didn't have anything for dessert,
but I think the dinner
was filling
enough.