Casual Exclusion

Chill cinnamon rolls and cherry pie

go down until I feel ill

At a plastic table my siblings

are resolute

Crusts of fresh white bread

crack of the cue ball in another room

Warmth, and loneliness

that smells of potpourri

I curl into a chair with a sketchbook

carved bars digging into my back

Aunts, uncles, cousins laugh and mill

Dad scolds me for taking so long to remember

their names

Orange Fanta, Jesus’ painted face

looking down

and I am cold, their casual exclusion

a prelude to swelling joints

Still searching

for forgiveness