She takes the tablecloth
from the linen cupboard
by the door
     grabs an edge
     shakes it open
     inhales the crisp fragrance.
White hovers above the table
     for an instant
before settling
so she can
its creases and folds
lay fresh napkins
on its starched surface.

Tonight I dine
at this table
     wine stains
     a bit of sauce
then wipe chocolate
     from the corners
     of my mouth
wad my napkin
discard it
     in a heap
next to the coffee dregs
          in my empty cup.

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