Sunday Dinner

A poem by Beverly Stock.

The chicken slipped inside the case,

All plump at his finale,

A carcass bare excluding face,

I felt some melancholy.

With love, I stuffed my head-less bird,

His white meat was a winner,

Yes, family came, no quarantine

At last, a normal Sunday dinner.

Beverly Stock is an American poet who delights in creating poetry that asks big questions about small moments, and inspires readers to revisit the little memories we so often overlook. Her work has been published by The Society of Classical Poets, The Chained Muse, Persimmon Tree, and LightenUp Online, in the UK. Visit BeverlyStockPoetry.com and BeverlyStockPoetry on Facebook.