Thursday, October 01, 2015

A Chair At The Side Of The Road


A chair at the side of the road.
Part of the journey from
there to here,
wherever there was,
wherever here will be.
Waiting.
Resting.
Sitting.
Perhaps a school bus will pass by,
or horse & rider,
or a wandering goat
free of its pen,
free of the rules about not jumping on cars,
not eating laundry on the clothesline,
not climbing into the backseats of cars.
Mourning doves
peck in the dirt at the side of the road.
Starlings 
perch on the wires strung above the road.
Earth and sky
surround the chair by the side of the road.
In the ditch,
goldenrod has gone to seed
while asters keep their fuzzy purple faces
towards the autumn sun.
When it rains,
the chair sits empty,
the road splashes,
the mourning doves
return to their nests in the trees.
Flying low, 
a crow looks down
and wonders why there is 
a chair at the side of road,
thinks the raindrops on the seat
look like shiny pearls. 
 

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