The Chair

 

 

I staggered

Through the door

Not looking back

Never wanting

To go there again

 

In front of me

Still

Lay a broken chair

Backlit

By the fading sun

 

Front legs

Bent inwards

Velvet back

Ripped open

Vulnerable as prey

 

Yet

It stood there

Stoically

Defying

It's inevitable fall

 

The elegant curve

Of mahogany

Protruded

Like a peacock's plume

Proud and defiant

 

Recalling

The comfort

And respite

It adorned

On grateful guests

 

From the horror

Behind that door

Arms

Open and worn

By fearful hands

 

I took a step

Entering

The chair's embrace

Ending our mutual pain

To begin anew

 

Once more