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Tuesday, October 27, 2015

Ode to a Kitchen Table

I've a desk in my library and one in my bedroom, but most of my writing is done at the kitchen table. Putting away my manuscript earlier today, I was shocked to realize that it was the end of October and already the chickadees are back scratching for food. I used to think the birds were the only reason I wrote at the kitchen table - but since they are just now returning it occurred to me that there may be another reason I find the kitchen table my favorite place to write. Hence this hastily written but heartfelt ode to my kitchen table.

I sing your praises worn wood of old,
long-stripped mahogany,
now honey-gold,
once youthful as the man and bride
who brought you home
to be their pride -

a place where family gathered 'round,
to share a meal
midst happy sounds
of clattering dishes 
'n baby coos,
'n the man 'n bride
I love you.

Long gone.
The man. 
The woman.
The babies grown,
all with families of their own.

But the one who sits 
with pad and pen -
hears their music yet again;
'n though scratched and peeling,
the table rejoices
at the echo of familiar voices -

a man, a woman, a child too -
their gentle, lingering 
I love you -
all written into books and songs
at the kitchen table
where she belongs.

my beloved kitchen table (all dressed up for a birthday party)!