My entry for KaylaAnAuthor’s Summer Poetry contest. Click here for details on how to join in and to check out the other entries.
Thanks for reading.
The Chair
The wheelchair is empty and the sky remains bright
Birds sing and chorus, the flags flutter alight.
September rounds her face, her thick red hair tangled with twigs.
Her freckles waver and she disappears with a grin.
The wheelchair is empty and your brown eyes are soft
The wheels of cars continue, the traffic now gone.
Sneakers catch on street corners, strangers pass me by
Paperwork churns out, people say goodbye.
The wheelchair lays empty, a testament to your abode
I wonder if you’re running, walking or singing alone.
Are you amazed, or did you know how it would be?
You left us in Summer, you left us at sea.
Does death have such stringent laws and vows,
That its curtain cannot be turned asunder, no communication allowed?
I listen to the winds, I listen to the bells.
And I tell Death, once and for all, to go back to Hell.
The wheelchair lays empty, silent pieces of metal and tires
Now it will rust and become someone else’s ire.
I think you liked poetry, I struggle to recall.
Maybe you’d find this poem funny, if you read it at all.
But still the wheelchair lays empty
and it lays empty, empty for all.
Peregrine Arc 