Under the napkin, the knife and fork
lie still and the fingers struggle with paper,
nimbleness replaced with patience and wisdom.
The cold meatloaf,
a much favored leftover,
with ketchup and mayo and fresh ground black pepper
set to the side as a sauce,
a low carb proximation of the meatloaf sandwich.
The fingers thirty years ago would not have known
how well they behaved as the sauce is stirred,
as the butter knife slices the loaf.
A moment not treasured then,
is seen in its exquisiteness
in thirty more someone else
will have to lift the napkin,
stir the sauce,
and cut and lift
to my lips.