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Falling to Pieces
Two poems about change
This began with me needing to consolidate two rooms into one: an office that was becoming a bedroom, so needed to be brought into my living room. What to get rid of? How about that old love seat that had already fallen apart, that I hated, that we had to cover up with a bedspread because it was so ugly, whose couch had already been lifted away. And while we’re at it, let’s say goodbye to that old chair downstairs that no one can sit in for long before it starts falling apart as well….then a line from a song got stuck in my head, and the rest is history!
To Dad’s Recliner: You Fall to Pieces
when anyone settles their body
into the comfort of your leather,
a blue worn to wrinkled thin tissue
not torn yet but your back no longer
stands straight nor leans to support
quite properly, and every time someone
pulls their feet up to be propped by
your own I cringe with the hopes that
you will not tip over this time.
You were aged when my 23-year-old
daughter was a baby and we placed her,
swaddled tight in a blanket like a burrito,
chest to chest on her father,
who laid across you with no shirt on.
Cheek on skin, hearing his heartbeat,
the only way we knew to quiet her
colic and crying. You were ancient
when my son lay upon you to play
his video games in the basement
of my new house, where you now sit,
golden foam falling on the…
