Burning Board

Seated at the end of the dining room table
at dinner time
in April
shortly after my plate is clean
I can look down
under my youngest daughter’s chair
to see a wonder of nature

the setting sun
ninety-three million miles away
sends long rays
through the front storm door
across the living room floor
and into the dining room

where they illuminate
the most remarkable piece
of American cherry
laid there and
nailed down
by my friends
Mike, Matt, and Craig
before this daughter was even born

the grain of that tree
is like fire
glowing in three dimensions
lasting only a few minutes
before a random planet
spins away from its star