The dining room table of my childhood
Could be mine now if I want it
To bring all the memories attached to it
Into my house and my life again.
My stepmother of necessity letting go of it
Moving soon to smaller living quarters
Feels the loss of memory being separated
From her familiar objects witness to the past.
I went my separate way many years ago
Learning to provide for myself what was missing
Becoming a good father eventually
Slowly letting go of what is best forgotten.
A piece of furniture may outlive us
Taking on a new life with a blank history
And so I offer to my daughter this solid maple
With an extra leaf for when company comes.
I imagine her happy laughter infusing the wood
Creating a patina of love coating the surface
Knowing only the events of the table in her lifetime
Folding down the ends in a kind of closure.
