Table in the wilderness
that absence we have begun to know so well
seated in our souls as worlds rush
and time’s chatter runs
in unspun threads,
adrift,
we pass the bread, make light
sit in silent companionship
imbibing the process of acceptance,
a tower
is falling
tears soaked into its ash,
someone at my side
speaks of seasons,
their ebb and flow
the year’s turning,
summer light falls
across
a centre piece of red fruits
as
our quiet
reference and anecdote
to an elsewhere place
become present in all our eyes
‘the passing ritual of life’
one says,
we bond in aloneness
hold thoughts and hands
falling
Jenny is a published writer of poetry and prose at present working on short fiction. She also makes abstract ceramics.
Graduating from the Royal central School in London some years ago, she followed a career in the performing arts and has walked in many worlds. The juxtaposition of life in all its cadences, landscapes and voices, always inspires her. Jenny’s work appears in several anthologies and journals.
Grand Little Things 