We dragged this black leather chair from the dumpster and up the stairs, its three wheels ringing each wood step's retreat.One wheel was stubbed, but we Captain-Hooked it a patchy Wilson tennis ball.
Soon its back was scratched up by climbing cats.
More than it ever used to its ball bearings swoon to the weight of a body,
fit storage space only for books and folded blankets.
I like this portrait of a leather chair. Phrasing is tight, imagery vivid. It feels familiar.
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