The chair slumped
A broken-down throne that had forgotten
its glory
And dressed in clothing too large for its beaten body
Its intestines spilled out:
An unforgiving battle wound
Where a curious child snuck a bite
And decided she did not like the taste
Of mothballs
Dry dirt
And the texture of a mouthful of crackers
The chair didn't mind
It liked to help others
And be of service
Looking back on its life
The chair felt
Rather than remembered
The balanced burden of supporting a
weak back
Rainy days of soft sitting
And the warm breath
Of the small dog curled in its arms
It faintly remembered the color purple