PAPASAN

she drove like bitter wind renewed

to each swaray of yards askew

where junk became anothers treasure

here be SALES and things of pleasure

reassure me that we’re not done

on wheels of rubber on steel spun

and rooting through each box anew

to find that which we sought in bloom

I’m sure its here, I’m sure I’ll find it

when its in sight the breaks will grind

and out my feet will carry me from

an auto not quit yet stop treading

a thing in site is not its size

a simple chair is more than a prize

when its been sought so very long

since the teens my years

and maybe longer

papasan you sit aflame

with burgundy pad

just the right amount of fade

I claim this chair for my broke and broken

backside and back to recline in

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