The Art of Being a Chair
Measured and meticulous,
we put them there, lined them up
like a keyboard, organised
in tidy rows of rules,
standing, whalebone stiff,
and I bet that van Gogh’s chair
was never this breathless.
But there’s no funeral here,
no sermon,
no ceremony —
just a room, waiting
for the next move.
written for The Twiglets #8 “Folding Chairs”
oh, I LOVE this. “no funeral…no sermon…no ceremony”
Folding chairs are funny things, aren’t they? The cold witnesses to so many meetings and gatherings…
I am new to the twiglet (have been seeing yours, but hadn’t found the time to follow.) I’ve played. 🙂 (I think my comments are awaiting moderation.)
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Comments approved, and I’m delighted you’ve joined in! Spread the word, if you care to. xx
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I bet that van Gogh’s chair
was never this breathless
Your folding chairs have life, too, as you describe them.
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Thanks, Lorraine!
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Just don’t think it to death, and you’ll probably find something, like … school auditoriums, wedding receptions, Sunday school, a bingo hall, barbecues, outdoor concerts, comfort, discomfort, metal, noises … doesn’t actually need to be about chairs. 🙂
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This reminds me of the storage room at the volunteer fire house where the folding chairs (and tables) are stored…just waiting to be used.
I’ve often been on the clean up crew for events and helped to put the folding chairs ‘to sleep’ until the next ‘something new.
Thanks for the Twiglets prompts I really enjoy them.
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🙂
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It's Still Life 
Your comments are always welcome