Wooden

The old wooden chair sits alone

In the quiet of the corner

Without a care,

Mocking the one who

Put it there.

 

Sit in me again, it says,

Let me rest you from the world,

And creak

Creak

Creak

Like a lucky faucet leak.

 

The old wooden chair

Aged like a harrowed bone

All alone

Alone

Alone

Like a cast-away stone.

 

You like the cloth chair

So much better than me?

It asks.

Sit in me and see

The years I can bring you back

The dreams I can return.

 

The old wooden chair sits alone

In the discarded silence of the corner:

The last remnant of a

Grandmother’s kingdom thrown away,

Praying for a glance,

Hoping for a second chance.