Old Metal Seat

Old Metal Seat

A Poem by Kevin

The old metal chair sits solitary in the yard

Its faded white paint chipping

On the lawn in shards

Metal glistens in the sun briefly

Then weathers and rusts

Water, wind and sun

Residues on the seat as dust.

He'd sit in the chair

Faded denim jeans

And a shirt thread bare.

My reflection in his eyes

A reflection long since passed

Now just a chair where'd he go and why?

The chair seems to ponder a question

Each day about the old man

Just water, wind and sun

but no answer , no mention.

Just a chair growing rust ripe

Just a remember of the old man's life

Years pass, weeds engulf its frame

The chair just continues to rust

Fades into the fauna as if in shame

The old man once there

Now no longer sits

My visits no longer frequent

To share with me his wit.

My lasting remembrances of him

Were of those flashing lights

That came in a rush

And sped him off into the night.

His eyes met mine

as the ambulance took him away

they spoke to me as if to say,

It's all right boy,

You'll understand some day.

My eyes looking at his

had something to say

But they never could until today

 

 

 

 

 

I figured it out not to late

That old man's life

Was to be my fate.

But many years before

I'd revisit that chair

I cleaned and painted that chair

and sit in the cool night air.

It seems to welcome my weight.

The people again pass by and wave

They do a double take and stop to say.

You're taking the shape of the old man

That once sat in the chair

Even the faded jeans and shirt thread bare

Your friendly wave or nod

to all that pass

a younger of version

of that old man that had such class.

They would often inquire

What's become of him?

Where has he gone?

Did he move off

To the retirement home?

He's gone to plan for my comfort

And he left me this chair

He just seems to be gone,

But his presence is everywhere

Unlike the thread bare shirt

And the faded denim

That rests on the chair

My memories of him

Remain crystal clear

Everyday as I sit in the seat

I can still see his eyes and mine meet

I retell his tales

As I rock in the seat.

© 2009 Kevin


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Added on January 24, 2009

Author

Kevin
Kevin

old hickory, TN



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