Sitting Room [a Chair's Tale Contest-- 8th Place]
So here am I, are we, sit us,
a chair, a chair, a davenport.
White; blue; floral; bright;
we linger, and are never used.
Soft carpet: plush, divine.
So clean, untouched,
we wait for a miscreant.
'So you,' said I,
'how long, sat here
have you?'
'Too long,' said she,
'years too long
it seems.'
That chair, so soft,
she has eyes for me.
Yet here, away,
I may merely gape.
'Davenport,' said she,
'look away, have
some courtesy.'
'I'm blind!' said he,
to she, then I.
'Fifty years, seven
months sat here, have I.'
And there we sat, for
years, for months.
And never sat in that
room did they-- humans.
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