Difficult Crossing, by Monica Adams
after an exhibit of Margaret Wharton’s Chair Works in Chicago
Your chair in a slatted boat
rescues us who sat in rows
and learned by rote
1 + 3, and how many crows
if four fly away –
your seat was too close to the windows.
While your pencils lay
dulled on the desk, you dreamed
of wings, which would one day
fan out sunlit from the seamed
routine-worn rungs, the tallowed heart
of chairs. From that moment, what seemed
straight, or flat, what seemed to start
with feet and finish square
against the shoulder blades, would fall apart…
Monica Adams has poems in Blueline, San Diego Poetry Annual, and many more.
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