Ode to chairs
You appear to be multiplying
in our quiet brown house.
Some of you are familiar old friends,
others of you have only just arrived
and I haven’t quite got used to you yet.
Some of you I can’t move, some of you
make me constantly stub my toe.
Others of you are light as air as I
move you from one corner of the room
to another. Some of you are quite
uncomfortable, others surprisingly
relaxing; some quiet and humble,
others a little louder. Some of you
are ugly, but all of you are beautiful.
Some of you I dislike, yet none I
would want to live without.
You come from nature, from the ground,
trees and rocks, but you
also speak of modern times.
You are all different, but you are
all made in the same spirit, by the
same hands, and can stand alone or
live together. Each of you speaks
of a time, a place and a moment
in our lives.