My Little Red Chair

I once walked with my mother through a store.
I remember being utterly bored
And I could not wait for the car ride home.

 

We sauntered about the store. I grew tired.
I wanted to get back to my red chair.
My red chair that sat in the green backyard.

 

Over the years, the red had turned to brown
And its red delicious plastic was dull.
Even still, I loved that little red chair.

 

I recall a juice box and a hot day.
I recall my mother in the kitchen.
I recall turning Spongebob up very loud.

 

My father came home and took the remote.
He ignored my plea like a man ignores
A newly trained pup begging for leftovers.

 

I went to the fridge for apple juice
And saw my mother at the sink, crying.
I asked her why she cried and she said,

 

“I really wanted to watch Spongebob too.”
I delighted in my mother's sadness
Because if she wanted to watch, we would.

 

I ran to tell my father, who frowned,
Leaving the remote for my use.
With tiny fingers, I pressed the buttons.

 

My father and mother spoke in the hall.
My mother still wept, which I found quite odd.
She said she wanted to watch it with me.

 

I heard angry tone of shouts through the wall.
I felt a thud, which I found amusing
Because as it happened, Spongebob slipped.

 

The pairing of the comical sight and
That comical sound felt like summer nights
When all I had was my little red chair.

 

Inside was too loud, so the yard was mine,
At least until the streetlights came to life,
For the dark was forbidden and not for play.

 

I sat in my little red chair like a
Worm might sit on a red apple.
My chair was my throne and my home in peace.

 

My mother pushed the cart to the checkout.
She payed for a map, snack food and gas too.
We got in the car, much to my delight.

 

She drove, but she drove much too fast; too far.
I heard our plastic bags blow in the wind.
How odd they sounded filled with things, I thought.

 

So there my mother sat, I beside her,
Her eyes on the road, her mind far ahead
And I wondered how long until I saw

 

My little red chair.

 

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/3s7nua/metaphor/ https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/3s6748/spectrum_and_the_shade/