243. THE GREEN CHAIR

 243.

THE GREEN CHAIR
A starling sings, I look up,
discover a citron-green plastic chair
perched on a tiny balcony,
a wink of summer brightness high
above the humdrum city street.

Autumn arrives
in a rush of gaudy color.
Today is fall, winter begins
the day after tomorrow.

The air holds its breath,
grey frost settles in the shadows.
I wait, longing for the green 
to return, for the sudden, 

loud thaw of spring.

*comments welcome

This apartment building is in our neighborhood.

I love the way the green chair stands out so I took this photo 

and used it for my poem!

THE GREEN CHAIR

I look up, and up is 

a citron green plastic chair

waiting on an ordinary balcony,

a wink of brightness above

a humdrum city street.

Autumn arrives in a rush

of gaudy leaves. I stand there

waiting too.

Fall is tomorrow, winter

winter is the day after that. 

Everything is waiting, 

just waiting,

the cold cruelty of winter 

squats in the shadows, hangs on for weeks 

and weeks. I wait here, longing

for the return of all that is spring,

for her glorious color and life.

*comments welcome