(National Poetry Writing Month)
Today’s prompt from the NaPoWriMo website is to write a poem about food–anything at all about it. As always, I began with one idea and the poem took on a life of its own. This poem is about my grandmother’s dining room table which I inherited and around which many happy meals were enjoyed. The photo below is a lovely Easter shared with a German student around this very table. ❤️❤️❤️
the magic of the mahogany table, relating
not so much to the nature of the grain, running
like streaking waves of darkness toward the light,
but to the explosion of connection, gathering
strength to weather whatever lay ahead. wondering
if the jagged crack near to the one end, weakened
any hope for repair.
when great grandma sat there
three months before her passing,
when she complained of not hearing the words,
should we have known?
when she bowed her head with focused chewing
and wanted her black coffee light with cream,
should we have pulled her back to earth, resisting
the angel of death hovering nearby?
or is death the true wonder of magic, pointing
toward the light, always toward the light?