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.