Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Self-Portrait With Chair

1st Panel

Sturdy, a little away from the table, turned
at an angle
to catch the light,
it's the only chair in the room.

The sea-grass matting is frayed,
the wooden frame paintless with age.
Scuffed on the legs and back
it creaks a little.

Square, comfortable, simple
it sits, starkly there, staring back -
experience in its grain
rubbed in like oily resin.

2nd Panel

Overturned, it lies on its back
in the empty room
as the dust settles. Startled,
whoever was there is gone.

Crooked, the soft broken wood
shows its life
to the floor. They are both
grainy, splintered, flawed.

3rd Panel

The skeleton frame,
weed-overgrown, rots daily.
It forgets what it was,
becoming formless.

1 March 2009

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