Chair, by Albert Kraus

I wait and wait on hardwood still

For persons here and there

I hold them up when they can’t stand

For I am but a chair

Sturdy, strong and always there

My friend, unmoving, Table

Bigger, stronger, better than I

What he does, I am unable

Lamp is tall, bright, blinding

Finally I can see

The dust and dirt, clumped, and old

That rests together, right beside me

Off he goes and things go dark

He thinks he can play God

Book and Desk complain they’re blind

While I just sit and nod

For clock is up upon the wall

The rhythm still remains

Of every tick and every tock

I like to make it a game

Fridge and Stove engage in contest

Which of them can win?

Engage in battle, control of the room

Hot versus cold, fire, ice, where do I, chair, begin?

As battle ensues, unknown to me

Family is home, suddenly I see

A box is brought, I begin to feel weak

Confused and distraught, I look at my seat

Old, scratched, I guess it has been a while

Since family has been home, this is their arrival

A new me, I see

A new chair, over there

I guess it is time

I am quite bare

They pick me up

Hands still gentle

Air, wind, the Sun I feel

This family ahold of me, always parental

Built me

Used me down

Repaired the cracks

A shade darker of brown

But this is where I say goodbye

For Stove, and Fridge, and Clock I say “Hi”

For us and Lamp and Table and the others

We are who we have, brothers

For we were what House sanded for

We were on our own

We endured, conquered, caressed

We had made a home.

-Albert Kraus

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