The kitchen table

The story of my parent's divorce

The kitchen table

 

A little girl

found her parents

sitting at the kitchen table

 

Beaming

 

They said:

You know we‘ll never divorce

 

Seven years later

they called her

to the kitchen table

 

They said:

We‘re going to try to divorce

it‘s not final

maybe we‘ll work it out

 

It‘s been ten years

since the little girl saw her parents

at the kitchen table

beaming

 

They don‘t say anything

Anymore

They're not speaking

Author's Note

I wrote this poem originally in Icelandic but I translated to English as an experiment, I'm still not sure if it works/makes sense in English. I'm sorry if there are any mistakes I've made but as I said this is my first "translation".