In the Nook
Through spotted windows
a bright but newish moon
with sixteen scattered stars
may be seen,
unless the table lamp is on,
which it is,
on the great-grandma oak table,
refinished by mom and
varnished to withstand apocalypse,
a table for dinner for one or two,
computers, books, and magazine stacks,
a cat or two, errant and undisciplined;
the fan and open back door blow breezes
and occasional catfur dustbunnies
astir on the diamond tile floor
awash in dead bugs, stray kibbles,
and catbarf remnants in the grout
that the towel didn’t pick up;
the icemaker cracks,
startling the snoring calico,
as crickets chirrup in the corner of spring.
I am digging deep, taking root.
This post is a blend of the A to Z Blog Challenge and NaPoWriMo. To read other A to Z bloggers, click here. Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was to write a poem that closely describes an object or place that ends in an abstract line.
Pushing the Bruise 
“Varnished to withstand apocalypse.” Love that – and I think I’ve had some of those pieces of furniture myself. I am with you, in your corner. Dustbunnies and all. Ah-choo! (I’m allergic)
Hahaha! I love it, though–it means I don’t need hot pads or trivets. It set my standard for tabletops for all time. 🙂
I shall not write a poem looking too closely at the corners and crannies in my house, but I enjoyed dwelling in yours for a moment.
Thank you so much. You’re welcome to visit anytime. You can keep your corners dark, but keep writing the poems anyway. 🙂
I loved seeing your nook, through your words and your photograph. Once again, you chose the perfect words to help us see what you see. I am grateful for the freedom of the A-Z challenge. You are doing amazing things combining the poetry challenge with this. I would not be up for TWO challenges. Well done, you!
Well, some days the A to Z part of it is a bit constraining…but I’ve been able to make it work so far, at least to some degree. 🙂 Thanks for your kind words.
What I love about this is that you have history, whimsy and real-life all rolled into one little space. You know there are sixteen stars out there (did you count them on your walk? did you peek out earlier?) but you can’t see them now. How comforting. How wonderful to have your great-grandma and your parents share the space with your cats, who in your words defy all the things we hear about them being such sanitary creatures. And you dig deep–settled into the whole of who you are.
Sheesh. Poetry begets poetic blogments! Thank you! 🙂 (I *did* count them earlier.)
You’re a poet it and you know it. Anyone who can raise the dust bunnies and turn them into arty bits can undoubtedly has skills. I loved all the little details which painted the scene so perfectly. Having been to your house, I was impressed at your “girl power” that you that you gave the reader the beauty and the sweet smallness too.
Dustbunnies into arty bits! Hahaha! I love that! Girl power? You mean like gmas and moms and such?
I thoroughly enjoyed the descriptions that provided us with much insight. Very nice!
Thank you, Via!
Digging deep, taking root. This is exactly how I see you, and your poetry. I love the details here.
Thank you! It *is* what I try to do, sitting here at this table that represents my roots.
“To see a World in a Grain of Sand/And a Heaven in a Wild Flower/Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand/And Eternity in an hour.” The beauty and the universal, both, are in the details. Gorgeous beyond words. Thank you for this gift.
I felt like I was “In the Nook” with you! The imagery was so tangible and beautiful. This poem made it easy for me to feel like I’m somewhere else. I cannot wait until I have a homey little nook of my own!