Saturday, April 19, 2014

Tables for two

Sometimes we eat at a broad, thick farmhouse table,
with drawers above our laps
where cold, bone-handled knives lie waiting.
Sometimes we eat at a bird-legged, bistro table,
knowing one slip
could send everything crashing.
Sometimes at my parents' chipped formica table
which once seemed so vast
my brother and I'd play ping-pong on it.
Sometimes at an antique rosewood one
which has this central piece
that opens out of nowhere like it's flowering.
Richard Meier, 2011