by Seth Rosenbloom
The deck chairs made it
through winter.
Snow has melted off
the slope of the seats.
There’s silt left behind,
and splintered slats
that need sanding.
Beyond the patio
the hedge shines
with green stems
ready to rocket
into the sky.
April will come,
then summer, and
days too bright to see
how the chairs
have aged with us.
Do we count
on the legs
to still stand?
If one chair breaks,
can the other be left
alone. Or is it time
to retire them both?
Seth Rosenbloom is a poet and a consultant to companies on leadership. His poems have recently appeared in Poetry Northwest, Tupelo Quarterly, Orange Blossom Review and other publications. His work has been nominated for Best of the Net and been a finalist for the Tom Howard/Margaret Reid Poetry Prize. Seth was born in Washington, D.C. and he lives in Seattle.
Emerge Literary Journal 