Am I kin to Sorrow,
  That so oft
Falls the knocker of my door—
  Neither loud nor soft,
But as long accustomed,
  Under Sorrow’s hand?
Marigolds around the step
  And rosemary stand,
And then comes Sorrow—
  And what does Sorrow care
For the rosemary
  Or the marigolds there?
Am I kin to Sorrow?
  Are we kin?
That so oft upon my door—
  Oh, come in!

Refrigerator magnets
Will tell
kitchen table truths
About family
And blood
And how it will stick
Forever
No matter what
To kitchen table believers