From the moment we first saw it
at the Alameda Market, you jumped.
It was the jewel of Julia Child’s kitchen you said.
An elegant baker’s table.
With a single long drawer on one side
and wheels that easily slide when carrots fly…
I didn’t understand your enthusiasm, nor did I know it’s worth.
The man wanted $70 for it. You didn’t dicker
when you handed him the money.
He said wearily, “a lot of people tried to get me to take less.”
You didn’t try to play him
and you don’t play me.
It’s the magnetic hub where we converge
huddled over an island of white porcelain.
Chopping lettuce, red cabbage for a simple salad,
Your hand reaches across with julienned carrots to find me, waiting.
For over two decades Devorah championed Californian authors publishing with the NY offices of Harper & Row and Houghton Mifflin. Today Devorah loves living with her husband and kitty on Elkhorn Slough in Monterey, an ecological treasure, hand painting dyes on silks and catching new poems midair.
