Forgotten Chairs, poem in progress

three old chairs in garden
three old chairs in garden
Forgotten Chairs

Forgotten Chairs

Who is telling me a story?
Whose legs wore the paint so thin on that rounded oak edge?
Who sat for breakfast in these chairs?
Who listened to family stories?
Now that our histories are linked by chance
I want to know who you are.

A poem in progress, March 22, 2024.

Copyright 2024 © Bernadette E. Kazmarski

I have a fondness and also a certain protectiveness for older things that have been discarded. I’m always pulling chairs out of others’ trash, seeing they still have some use, and I don’t want them to spend the end of their useful lives in a landfill. I’ve often used them in my house for a while, then when their joints begin to loosen and paint begins to peel, they have their next life in my garden, often for a decade or so, as decorations, plant stands, even actually sitting places.

Cleaning out under my deck this spring I knew I had about six of them under there, and I’d blocked them in with garden hoses and such. Time for them to get back to work. I decided this was a great spot for these three chairs to at least spend some time, and after I’d walked back to my work area and turned to look at them, these three old oak chairs, their loose panels, peeling layers of paint in colors through the decades, the front edges worn smooth from legs, started telling me a story. So I wrote a poem.

Actually, I recorded my thoughts on my phone, and this little poem is exactly what I recorded. I find I often do better speaking my thoughts as notes than actually trying to write things in moments like this.

Not a bad deal on some free chairs


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All Rights Reserved.   ♦   © Bernadette E. Kazmarski   ♦   PathsIHaveWalked.com

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Poem for Saturday: A Waning Moon at Daybreak

A waning moon at daybreak
awakens, slips sleepily over the horizon
begins her transit when the day is new
left our nighttime dreams unilluminated
fading, undistinguished, into the wakening day.

Venus, sparkling alone in the blue, knows
it’s only a phase;
soon enough Sister Moon will wax
full over the horizon before
Brother Sun has bid goodnight
and fill our dreams with amazing stories.

“A Waning Moon at Daybreak” © 2017 Bernadette E. Kazmarski

I first posted this as a poem-in-progress with my daily photo on my photo blog Today in July 2017 and knew I’d end up drafting a poem. I shared it here, and let it sit until it spoke to me again. Here is the finished poem.


Read more:   Essays   ♦  Short Stories  ♦  Poetry

All Rights Reserved.   ♦   © Bernadette E. Kazmarski   ♦   PathsIHaveWalked.com

SUPPORT MY WRITING

Visit my PATREON page.

 

 

Poem in Progress: A Waning Moon at Daybreak

A Waning Moon at Daybreak

A waning moon at daybreak

awakens, slips sleepily over the horizon

begins her transit when the day is new

left our nighttime dreams unilluminated.

Venus knows

it’s only a phase

soon enough she will wax

full over the horizon before

brother sun has bid goodnight

and fill our dreams with amazing stories.

“A Waning Moon at Daybreak” poem in progress © Bernadette E. Kazmarski

I first posted this with my daily photo on my photo blog Today and knew I’d end up drafting a poem. I began the draft there, and shared it above. We’ll see how it works out in the next few weeks or months.


Read more:   Essays   ♦  Short Stories  ♦  Poetry

All Rights Reserved.   ♦   © Bernadette E. Kazmarski   ♦   PathsIHaveWalked.com

SUPPORT MY WRITING

Visit my PATREON page.

 

Poem in Progress: Spring Tonic

Spring Tonic
Spring Tonic
Spring Tonic

Dead nettle,
bittercress,
wild garlic,
once healing tonics
taken in spring,
today only weeds,
unwanted,
except by me
for my eyes and palette
served in a bed of vivid fresh greens.

A poem in progress ©Copyright Bernadette E. Kazmarski

Just getting a little sentimental about my garden.


Read more:   Essays   ♦  Short Stories  ♦  Poetry

All Rights Reserved.   ♦   © Bernadette E. Kazmarski   ♦   PathsIHaveWalked.com

SUPPORT MY WRITING

Visit my PATREON page.

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