 |
| source |
She liked reunions best, this oak table,
her indentations, water stains and burns
perfect testament to humanity’s
loving attention and carelessness. Yes,
she enjoyed spills of laughter, anger, tears,
and wine, water and salad dressing, the
flour of apple pie crust and the soap
used in between. She
adored flying words
of overlapping voices and Scrabble,
the layered scents of food, ashes and oil.
Her clawfooted pedestal remembered
the feet—both shod and bare—that touched her own.
She noticed absence more. She felt kinship
with waiting floors, with open and shut doors.
(She wondered that she had been abandoned.
She could float, she thought, she could be a boat,
and pass through time as only heirlooms would
to hold re-union, to bring people home.)
to hold re-union, to bring people home.)
For my Prompt
Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Reunions
My blog poems are rough drafts.
Please respect my copyright.
© 2017 Susan L. Chast
Love everything about this poem: those bygone moments of joy in details, present moments of void & the longing wish for another reunion. A wonderful personification & an awesome title. Wow!
ReplyDeleteLove this poem, Susan. I had a table like that for many years- something my mother may or may not have rescued from the trash collectors. Your poem brought the memories back.
ReplyDelete[like]
ReplyDeleteLove the voice of what is stationary aching for the joy of old while everything around it moves on....She felt kinship with waiting floors, with open and shut doors... that is a great metaphor for so many relationships that only the furniture grieve for.
ReplyDeleteWonderful concept deftly crafted into words. The mundane table has been exalted to be made immortal..!
ReplyDeleteBeautiful table. She will bring them back soon!
ReplyDeleteI read this over and over again. I have a breakfront hand made as a gift in 1888. How I wish it could tell me its stories! Your last stanza is enormous, poignant and longing. What a great read!
ReplyDeleteHi Susan, I love the way you have made the speaker the table, very well done. I enjoyed this poem very much.
ReplyDeleteA table holds a million stories. I wrote of our family table, too, handed down for generations......... at my sister's house, where her boyfriend's family now gathers at holidays. I especially love the part of your poem in brackets.
ReplyDeleteLuv the use of the oak table, its stability and strength, as anchor
ReplyDeletemuch love...
It is said the wooden table recognizes the wooden bowl. I like your perspective! The table thinks and speaks....and remembers.
ReplyDeleteWow Susan. This poem is so tender, full of emotion without being too emotional. It's so good. Made me feel a little like Rosemary: Not just "I wish I'd written this" but I wish I could write like this.
ReplyDeleteAwww...I like the angle of your poem here about reunions Susan. Great write!
ReplyDeleteI have an old dining room table. Not only is it well crafted, it bears many magic moments.
ReplyDeleteLove the personification here. I have some antiques that I wish could talk to me of their past lives. I hope your table has her family around her soon.
ReplyDeleteOld family tables are indeed wonderful, and the memories they evoke.
ReplyDeleteAh...blood is thicker than water...and so is chicken soup(old Jewish Joke:)
ReplyDeleteFamily get togethers around the old table are mainly fun.
beautiful capture of moments actions of togetherness..reunions at the dining table special, I guess there is one in almost every house all over the world..and so intensely dramatic in expression..it deeply touched my heart and created loving nostalgia..great writing excellent poetry in personification...Thank you Dr Susan
ReplyDeleteBeautiful! Old furnitures are often great reminders of the once glorious past....and what makes these grand structures all the more interesting are the stories behind them.Loved it, Susan.
ReplyDeleteI am both laughing and weeping at this bittersweet poem. Poor Old Clawfoot!
ReplyDeleteReally love this! <3
ReplyDeleteWow. It's amazing how an object can reveal so much about our lives and the memories.
ReplyDeleteLove the point of view in this, Susan. The table tells many tales; It sees and smells everything at once!
ReplyDelete