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  • poetryforlifeforever

steady hands

the chairs and sofas

became alive

after he gave them

a new personality


customers - they looked at

huge books filled with patterns

some busy, others slow

they had their own colors

like the people who chose them


i remember the old, rickety chairs and sofas

with tattered clothing

ashamed and forlorn

no companions to sit


his shaking hands,

blistered and dirt in the lines,

somehow worked like doctor's hands

that lonely chair or abandoned sofa,

all torn and naked,

became the newest model,

showing off her colors


i couldn't see it at first

i only saw the tear, the dirt and holes,

only after he saw it

did they have new life

like a conductor waving his baton

he somehow dressed it

with musical notes

beautiful to the eyes,

beautiful to the ears


i thought it was mean work

below my american education

hours of harsh labor

what worth could they be

just to fill hungry stomachs


he never said anything

just smiled and kept busy

with his shaking hands

turning out smiles and laughter

like people who sit at banquets

watching a beautiful girl

dancing away

like cotton snow

twirling

in the sky





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