Tuesday, March 29, 2016

the empty chair



the empty chair

i guess it's still there. the empty chair. she sometimes wrapped a piece of cloth around its back. some material of Afrikan design — women carrying baskets or urns on theirs heads — women walking somewhere or nowhere over there — busy women in colorful costumes. various figures repeated in long patterned lines. i've never been sure why she put it there on the empty chair.

i guess it's still there. the empty chair. soft and ancient wood tilting in its adirondack design. some days with a red cushion on the seat, but not a seat cushion. more like a sofa cushion on a chair that creaked under one's weight, despite my careful repair.

i guess it's still there. the empty chair. more like a lounge than just a chair. the ottoman secured directly to the chair somehow. it was rare that i would sit there, but when i did, she would come and snuggle with me, and she would smooth my hair.

i guess it's still there if anyone cares. there in a house of empty chairs.
 






 








 
 


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