down by the lakeside,
usually arranged in pairs implying a couple
who might sit there and look out
at the water or the big shade trees.
The trouble is you never see anyone
sitting in these forlorn chairs
though at one time it must have seemed
a good place to stop and do nothing for a while.
Sometimes there is a little table
between the chairs where no one
is resting a glass or placing a book facedown.
It may not be any of my business,
but let us suppose one day
that everyone who placed those vacant chairs
on a veranda or a dock sat down in them
if only for the sake of remembering
what it was they thought deserved
to be viewed from two chairs,
side by side with a table in between.
The clouds are high and massive on that day.
The woman looks up from her book.
The man takes a sip of his drink.
Then there is only the sound of their looking,
the lapping of lake water, and a call of one bird
then another, cries of joy or warning—
it passes the time to wonder which.
"The Chairs That No One Sits In" by Billy Collins from Aimless Love. © Random House, 2013.
I have 'owned'
owned in high school
Willys steel wagon
owned in the 1970s
Woody boxers currently worn and worn again and again
were given to me by former fellow Yellow Cab driver 206
now of Albany CA
Maintenance much less for these
a few coins in the washing machine
good to go
more than likely I'll later be in 'em.
Studying a spider
in my retirement
Right there it is presently
next to the hanging flower pot
Appearing first in June
and now going into eventual fall
spinning, repairing -
working in early and evening hours
clinging or descending on its jiggly strands
a high-wire walker seemingly
not caring what is up
or what is down
I would once not noticed
but now I do
this spanner of our high glass
outside the window
waits, and I do too
Inspecting and discarding
Currently at work at the Odd Fellows Waukesha