The Hallway
Aromas everywhere.
A worn hallway. Many rooms.
Tony’s tomato sauce simmers.
Lightly breaded eggplant sizzles.
He’ll soon merge the aromatic delight.
An act of care and purpose.
Smiling, he offers a plate—eat!
Dave’s soft, lyrical guitar melody wafts through the door.
Jacquie’s meatballs. Flawless—light, oregano, garlic.
Judy bakes her chocolate cake from scratch.
Doors open.
People devoted to craft, each in their own way.
Later, food arrives in the Community Room for all—
the stranger, too.
Dave brings a casserole of Mac ‘n’ Cheese.
Many eat.
Some don’t.
Some can’t.
But all communicate something unnamed.
Mature people.
Living with purpose.
Offerings—not expected; happily accepted.
This is how they live.
This is what they do.
Home
A folded memory unfurls—an old Franklin cookstove.
She rolled pie crust dough to perfection.
Lemon meringue.
Her granddaughter’s favorite.
The hallway remembers the day’s aromas.
So do I.
