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My familiy lived

on the third floor,

in a brick-red building

on Roosevelt Avenue.

We made enough money

to pay

for a one bedroom.

My brother and I shared it.

The green sofa split

the living room into two

provided an extra bedroom.

blue and white blankets unfolded,

kept my parents from sleeping 

on the bare floor.

Mom cooked in the kitchen.

I set the table.

My brother stood on a chair,

pulled out four cups

from the cabinet.

My father lifted the table

placed it in the middle

between the tv and sofa.

We had just fought

but sat on the floor,

prayed,

ate.

Shared the one tv.

I was never jealous of big houses.