she's coming

you knew when
her mother was coming
because she had
the good china
out on the table,
being hand washed.
dusted and wiped
to a high sheen.
there would be a
gourmet meal to come,
a fine wine.
a fancy dessert
that you couldn't
pronounce involving
oranges and deep
dark chocolate.
she would tell you
to wear something nice,
for once,
a clean shirt, a
pressed pair
of pants.
the house would
fill with the scent
of roasted meats,
and flowers,
bread baked fresh
in the oven.
and when the dog
was put into the back
yard, you knew for
sure that her mother
was on the way.