Poem: The Lone Chair

lone chair_resize

The Lone Chair

The chair sits alone.
The room is empty.
There is no other place to sit.

This is not a lonely place.
You don’t do lonely,
a strange quirk of wiring,
not quite a flaw,
but something else.

You have never been certain
whether you saw ghosts in the emptiness,
or God
or yourself,
but the rickety throne you sit on
is always surrounded by presences
no one else sees.

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