Red Chairs

a little sunshine
lights things up.
chairs wait for
restless bottoms.

not many years
have passed since 
the red paint
was fresh and wet.

now, it is springtime;
nearby the river
is at flood;
the water's rising.

rushing waters
carry no message
for our ears or eyes.

anyways we listen,
sitting if possible,

listening to silence,
ideal for thinking,

listening to all the 
almost-whispers in 
our quieted minds.

the red chairs 
look good for 
that easy purpose.

sunshine on
wet laundry,
hung out to dry,

ripples on 
a small river,
only hundreds 
of miles long.

red chairs by 
a river bank.

so many 
beautiful silences
in springtime

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