Wilma's Welcome

He sat the table, fresh kid,

waiting for his dinner, 

pushing back the war 

now so far away.

His big brother smiled

glad to see him safe,

when she walked in, 

carrying a steaming plate

of the best fried chicken

either had ever seen.

The aroma awoke in his memory

soft Ohio nights,

God's righteous thunder rumbling  

gentle rains cooling the hot August sky, 

when Mom carried in our dinner, 

fried chicken and mashed potatoes, 

safety and 

love.

And looking at his brother's new wife, 

he smiled and at last said, 

"welcome to the family!"