November 26th, 2010
No matter how big or small your house, I bet that at some point this Thanksgiving you found yourself in a crowded kitchen. That’s just how it is: the kitchen and the kitchen table are the heart of the home and all good gatherings begin and end there. This is what this week’s poem made me think about. Enjoy!
Perhaps the World Ends Here
The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on.
We chase chickens or dogs away from it. Babies teethe at the corners. They scrape their knees under it.
It is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human. We make men at it, we make women.
Entry Filed under: Poetry Friday