Toady is my husband’s birthday. Exactly one week from Valentine’s Day. Last week I posted a love poem. This week I am contemplating the table he made for our family meals. This poem is after Naomi Shihab Nye’s poem “The Comfort of Wood.”
Wishes on Wood
For Jeffafter Naomi Shihab Nye
The Comfort of WoodI come to this table hungry
I come empty as a vase
waiting for the scent of blossoms.I come with no plan;
time stops.
I listen for the birds to return.He built this table
of soft blonde maple.
If you ask, he’ll show you the joints.The table centers the room,
colored chairs I painted with spray;
the green one could use a fresh coat.Now I am learning the strength
of this wood, like a family,
holds all our whispered wishes.–Margaret Simon, all rights reserved