Pass the Salt

Pass the salt
(That's all we say)

Half a year since the funeral flowers
Dad and me at a table for four
Two chairs we don't pull out
Her apron still on the pantry door
He burns the rice, I eat it anyway
He asks about school, I say it's fine
The TV talks so we don't have to
Every night, the same four lines

Pass the salt (pass the salt)
That's the only thing we say
Pass the salt (pass the salt)
Like the rest might break the plate

Two men and a quiet kitchen
Missing the same voice
Pass the salt

Tuesday night the shaker's empty
He looks at me, I look at him
He laughs, first time since April
"Your mom always filled it, never me"
Then he's crying on his dinner plate
And I don't know where to put my hands
So I sit down in her chair beside him
And for once it isn't strange

Pass the salt (pass the salt)
That's the only thing we say
Pass the salt (pass the salt)
Like the rest might break the plate

Two men and a quiet kitchen
Missing the same voice
Pass the salt

She used to talk for both of us
Filled the quiet like salt in a jar
Now we're learning how to say it
Slow and plain, that's where we are

Pass the salt (pass the salt)
Then tell me how your day went
Pass the salt (pass the salt)
I'll tell you how I've been

Two men and a louder kitchen
Finding her voice in ours
Pass the salt

Pass the salt