Kitchen Chair

I found this...i wrote it a few years ago and i have to say it is one of my favorites.



There she has sat for many years and doubtless will for more.
Solitary upon her kitchen chair with her eyes directed towards the door.
For a time, she had unquestionable tenderness, that long ago set adrift.
It slipped away not hastily but with each passing tide would shift.
Upon the day it left her she ceased to feel complete.
And now she spends her lonely days perched upon this seat.
Waiting, listless, longing for that feeling of tenderness to return.
But now this task she has set before her remains her one concern.
To wait, to watch, silently in her space.
For another chance, another time or place.
She imagines there it stands, waiting, just out of her sight.
But never leaving her kitchen chair has now become her plight.
To search she feels she musn't. To leave she somehow fears.
What if in her searching it simply returns after all these years.
The longing, completely consuming, the desire always there.
For now she remains waiting, solitary, upon the kitchen chair.

Molly 2007