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Chair
Old as can be, unstable and creaky, Its a surprise you used to be able to support me. Legs like the 4 suits of a deck worn by years of play. Equally uneasy and shaky yet you sit at the table stiff as can be, imprints of people left on you like a memory.
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My Tree
The same tree I always climb, The tree that gets pitch on my hands I call you mine. With branches I swing to and fro’ Will it snap? That I never know. I come to you in times of need because climbing you fills me with glee. I take a chance a leap of faith Your branches holding tenderly my very fate. This old sturdy pitchy pine The very same tree that I call mine.
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This was a project I had for school but never finished cuz I was lazy __________ Language of love foreign yet familiar. Our lives stitched together in the fabric of time for I am only a Vessel that seems to fly following your grace, an Empty burning hole soothes and fills when I see your face.
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