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The Table is Set
by Kristina Woodhill
Square table,
knock on wood,
legs level,
two attached by bungie cords
to portable potty-chair legs,
too tipsy with dying to stand on its own
Square table
snugged also against lift chair,
fabric on left arm stained,
small objects slip
between
chair and table
into lift chair side pocket,
lost then (woohoo!) found,
her mind wanders there sometimes
Square table,
body powder to quiet itching,
Tylenol, extra strength,
exotic plastic letter opener, plain plastic red comb,
nail clippers, companion file, tweezers
Mirror large enough,
devotional book small enough,
note reminding difference
between 12 a.m. and 12 p.m.,
old, old men's soft white under shorts
best damned spectacles' cleaner
Here resides my Queen of Hearts
amidst her holy furnished triangle of last rites,
Chair of comfort Let me close my eyes and forever rest
Chair of necessity Father, help me not leave a mess behind
Table, their corner stone Daughter, I am readied and ready to go
02/22/2021 Posted on 02/22/2021
Copyright © 2024 Kristina Woodhill
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Laura Doom on 02/23/21 at 08:09 PM I read this several times - something of a masterpiece, at the midpoint of a emotional triangle; a form of allegory with undertones of fantasy, and grounded in a reality that releases a poetic sigh of acceptance.
Strangely (or maybe not so), it reminded me of Jim Benz` poem, her muted smile, in its use of imagery. Anyway, it`s now in my list of favourites. |
| Posted by Joan Serratelli on 02/24/21 at 12:35 AM This is GREAT- I really loved it. Loved the images |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 02/24/21 at 07:31 PM Wow! All the images fit together nicely like a painting of sorts. |
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