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Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #2070657
A poem of rememberance
The Chair

That chair stood tall
As I remember
I could sit in it
If I climbed high enough,
Just bend at the waist
And place my chest on the seat,
Grab the back posts . . .,
Pull.
My feet never cleared the edge
But that was okay
Because now I could see
What was on the table.

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