Hades calls a family meeting

–after “Gaia forgets her shopping list”

They waited to have it

when she wasn’t home,

though they can still see her

through the windowpane–

the old crone is busy

in the garden picking flowers,

her bowing figure framed in the big bay windows

that Persephone had wanted,

new kitchen overlooking

the Elysium fields.

They’re gathered around

the table, all of them,

a fresh pot of ambrosia

pouring hot into tea cups,

Charon drinking from his usual flask.

Hera doesn’t want to be here,

her shining nails tapping against ceramic,

leg bouncing until Hades reminds her

“She’s your grandmother, too.”

Hestia and Athena have said nothing,

but Aphrodite is beside herself as she sobs,

Demeter wiping away at her tears.

“She makes it halfway down Olympus

and forgets what she was going for in the first place,

and one of the Zephyrs has to

bring her home.”

It’s been undeniable lately–

Gaia’s age, her increasing forgetfulness,

the way she can’t remember to work

her craft or her loom.

“Everyone gets old, you know,”

Demeter says,

and she glances sharply at Hades’ face,

the bags beneath his tired eyes starting to look

so much like hers.

“She likes the garden here.

Plus, she would have Cerberus

to keep her company.”

Hades winces,

knowing Demeter’s points are true.

His little brothers

Zeus and Poseidon stay silent,

staring into their tea cups

as if they are made of stone.

Hades sighs again, head heavy.

“Alright. Gaia will move in with me

and Persephone, at least for now.”

Outside,

through the windowpane,

they see Gaia with her hands full of flowers,

her smile bright like a little girl’s.

Persephone comes to the doorway,

calling sweetly.

“Great-grandmother, come inside–

the ambrosia is still warm!”