Ode to the Dinner Table

Now that so many of us are home, perhaps it’s time to once again write an ode to an ordinary object that just doesn’t get its due.

Most of the time,
You don’t notice me –
You just see
That water from last night’s dinner
Pretending someone will drink it
The mail, sorted on people’s
Worn placemats until
It’s put out of its misery

I’m not where anyone
Chooses to work
Or wants to relax,

Each night
You’re home
I gather you
Across the corners
For conversation
And communion
Weaving you together
Like the fringes of those
Worn placemats

Published by Lainie Levin

Mom of two, full-time teacher, wife, daughter, sister, friend, and holder of a very full plate

3 thoughts on “Ode to the Dinner Table

    1. Thank you! There probably exist volumes of untold stories when it comes to dinner tables, and what they’ve seen. Powerful creatures, they are…

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