was what we did weekly
on sundays. my parents
quite bored in a sitting room
full of obligations and furniture, 
memories solid as oak trees, 
and smoke curling patterns
like knots in cut oak.
I remember my grandfather,
god in his reclining
armchair. reading a book
and ignoring my mother,
watching me march 
to the kitchen with my serious 
face. laughing 
at me, telling me 
that we were both mighty. 
that neither would ever
die of anything. 
DS Maolalai has been nominated eight times for Best of the Net and five times for the Pushcart Prize. His poetry has been released in two collections, "Love is Breaking Plates in the Garden" (Encircle Press, 2016) and "Sad Havoc Among the Birds" (Turas Press, 2019).
image: Jill Burrow via Pexels