Found Object

By John I. Blair

Twenty six by twenty four
By twelve, scratched, stained
And slightly warped
It stood there at the curb.

I do not know its history
But swear I heard a plea
As I drove down the road:
“Consider, please consider!

My usefulness is not yet done.
I’m solid wood, pure oak.
My boards are strong;
They’ll hold; they will not break.”

So I stopped, stepped up
And asked the house.
“Eight dollars cheap,
And yours to take.”

Banished to my office lest
It shame the others,
Here it stands
All packed and loaded.

Photos, stacks
Of paperbacks,
Duct tape rolls, a file
Or two, and on the top

The printer this just issued from.
My trusty bookcase, partner
To my desk and chair.
It never spoke again.

©2007 John I. Blair