In Opi’s Kitchen

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we fingerpaint white paper napkins
with beet juice. Opi wears cabbage
leaves as a hat. Potatoes are juggled
and later become canvas
for googly eyes and pipe cleaner hair.
Omi and Opi sway as the borscht simmers.
Mom and Dad argue in the other room.
Sister and me arrange cakes and squares
on a platter for after. We all sit down to eat.
Someone says thank you, dear.
Someone says, pass the salad.
Everyone smiling. Everyone slurping.
Everyone playing
make-believe.