Oh, those chairs,

upon the deck

drunk on sun-glow–

a tableau

quiet

staid

but, false like the deceiving day,

that turns from summer warmth to winter cold.

Bold,

these chairs,

to us, reveal their tom-catting ways

as they scamper and dance

with the wind they embrace

turning face to face

and then apart

until—well, we’re startled

it’s too much to watch—

this shameless farce after the calm of yesterday

cart them off

(we all say)

and so, they’re captured

wrestled

pinned

against the wind

and into the garage they go

to stay for long, forever,

or

until. . . another sunny day.

Here’s a bit of silliness for Day 15, NaPoWriMo.  I was in Cape May, NJ, yesterday, an overnight trip with friends. One friend challenged me to write a poem about the chairs we were watching blowing about on the deck this morning. It’s possible there will be more about the trip tomorrow. 😉