Old Desk Chair

Photo by Katjuscha Schwalbe Boehm

Old Desk Chair

By Mushroom Montoya

I need to stop from time

                                             To time

To have a conversation

With the trees and bees,

About my life,

 

So, I can ask,

Yet again,

"Who

           Am

                     I

Really?"

 

I drag my old desk chair

                                                    Outside,

   Among the trees,

                                                          Stirring up the fallen leaves,

Frightening the earthworms,

Burrowing underground

While a gentle breeze

Kisses my cheeks,

With the scent of pine,

Clearing my mind

Of all the nonsense thoughts

That I have bought

With the labor of my busyness.

 

I heave a long slow breath,

And slowly melt into the chair

                                                   Where

I can enjoy the scenery

For the moment,

And

        just

                be

                       me.