Marked, scarred, worn wood
We use to sit and eat meals together
Four am meetings of jobs at the breakfast table
Eating top ramon noodles at high noon
Birthday dinners, holiday dinners
Watching or listening to ball games
All these years at the table together
The past eight years it has just been me
I sit alone with our memories
The echoes of times together
It has traveled from one home to another
Lost a bolt the last move, but I kept the table
I am asked "Why not get another table?"
I still have the leg! But no, it was my dad's table
Three legs or four, I still sit at the table
I started to repair it but didn't finish
Someday I will have it finished
But the memories of love remain
Now my family gathers together around it
I hope for many more times