Remnants

in silent space

once site of sparring

multi-generational warring

vying       trying         to love       to control     to shake sense into    make

sense out of the Big Controversies:

how one should eat            how one should think

what one should eat           what one shouldn’t drink

table legs        hollow chrome tubes    formica top sun-splatter blur      specks of dust     float      filter     indistinct

for this     last    time   being

the table       the two of us        what is left

we turn the table on its lid  (house finally sold)

petrified       artifacts       rattle down

the legs        grayish green

gold

peas        wax beans          asparagus           forty years old

N.B. This poem is dedicated to those children who had to finish their suppers before they could leave the table.  Under the table, in my house, there were two convenient receptacles for disposing of unwanted food – the dog, and the top openings of  hollow chrome tubes that made up each table leg.

Jean Cassidy  2010