This Old Table

Twenty years ago my husband and I took our sleep-deprived, parents-of-young children selves and our toddling, rampaging brood of 3 (I swear it felt like thirty) to find a capacious, durable, affordable kitchen table. Two decades later that long pine table, the one holding up this laptop as I type, is still the centerpiece of every significant thing our extended family does together. In this odd season of gatherings suspended, what memories does your, or a loved one’s, table spark?

This Old Table

everyone who has ever
leaned forearms or
elbows or hands
or hips on this
craft project
gold glittered,
sunlight battered pine
lives on in its cellulose fibers.
this table is a poem of connection.

Tracie Nichols writes poetry and facilitates group writing experiences from under the wide reach of two old Sycamore trees in southeastern Pennsylvania. She is the co-founder of the Embodied Writers writing group and a Transformative Language Artist helping women write themselves home. You can find Tracie on her website.

Related Posts

If you enjoyed this, you might also enjoy these