A death in the family.
Southern hospitality requires
cakes, hams, casseroles,
nuts, candies, desserts…
a spread for the family
no matter the size,
no matter the outpouring,
no matter the food plan
of those closest, of those
who have the leftovers,
of those surrounded by food
when their oldest, earliest ways
of dealing with sorrow
concern drowning it with food.
Is it not kinder, is it not more help,
to ask what is needed,
what food fits best, whether food
is welcome at all? Is it not right
to think of the loves ones
and of their needs,
not southern hospitality’s rules?