Past the door frame with layers of grimy fingers
Across the sticky floor of the small kitchen
Amid the shouts and hustle and bustle
And plates thrown about on the rickety table
The gathering of children like the gathering of chicks
Around and around the plates are filled
And shouts are the laughter of tomorrow
Another day has gone
And we brush the work off our shoulders
With smiles and the passing of plates
And in the midst of chaos
A collective breath signals the day's end with a gentle
Take and eat.
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