chair beneath the tree

The chair sat beneath the tree

soaking up the sun

waiting

while the sun dips behind the

toes

a dash of lime

adds the sting to the

setting sun

one more day

goes off to sleep

and I wake up in the dark

suck at life , the lemon wedge

burnt up at the edges , crusted with salt

the rim rubs against ny lips

the photographer shouts

stop , freeze , hold

I got to capture this moment

let the silver nitrate burn the image

remember those cave inscriptions

of matchstick men chasing wild boar

with pointed spears

raised arms in mock celebration

of victory

why should then the chair sit all by itself

lonely

by the tree

don't mock , don't laugh

for I know not how to forgive

or forget

all sounds and all words remain with me

as I hear the school bell ringing

someone picks me up and dusts off the salt

rimmed at my lips

I smile brightly and say

thank you thank you