as she walked into the room
she saw the table
then genuflecting
touched its surface
drew her hand across its rings
to explore the riffs and rills
valleys and canyons
of the rough cut top

from her pocket she pulled
out some laminated veneers
and moving them about
matched one to the grain

this one she said
(following it with her fingertip)
this thick dark ring
was laid in the summer
of the Great Exhibition
and this one
was growing
in the first world war
and this
(a thin bright ring between
two thicker rings)
was the year of
Hiroshima

look here she said
that was the summer that we met

I felt guilty then
as I put the coasters out
covering up all this history
but she was already gazing
out of the window
at the silent trees 
each growing a new layer
to record this year forever