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The chair without distinction
This, in praise of inanimate objects,
of the piece I brought home last year
from the church rummage sale.
A useful color in basic fabric,
a button missing among its worn tufts.
Sturdy, not graceful. Dependable,
not particularly easy. In a corner of
the room, out of the way, people sit on it
when the space gets crowded. They chat
with friends, coffee cups in hand,
then rise and move on without
noticing. Why should they notice.
Blessed are those who simply sit
and wait for people who need
to take the weight off their feet. |
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All poems are copyrighted by Luci Shaw.
To be reprinted only by permission of the author.
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| Email | Site by Paraclete Press | © 2007 Luci Shaw. All Rights Reserved. |
