Chairs Poem by R. L. Allen

The seat beside me is free
until, at the end of the day,
someone worthy claims it,

someone who won’t keep
rolling the dice when the game
is no longer in play,

someone who, when night time falls,
won’t give in to confusion or doubt:
someone unfaltering; unwavering.

The seat beside me is free
because you chose to leave it,
deciding to go backwards

instead of forwards,
withdrawing your hand from mine
and taking a jump from the

wagon and onto the tracks,
waiting foolishly for
the next train to take you away.

Perhaps the seat beside me
is better off being free,
if you jump at the thought of

staying with me.





May 26th,2010.