Making room

The table was set for four. Someone knocks.

A chair comes in from the bedroom, one leg shorter than the others. A folded envelope goes underneath.

Five glasses, no two quite alike.

Someone cuts the bread a little thinner. Someone says, I already ate, then accepts a piece.

There is an elbow where an elbow was not expected. The conversation moves around it.

You who can count the chairs, keep this detail too:

before they knew where everyone would sit, they opened the door.