The Chair
Stephen Knauth

The Chair

Willow chair, made right here
by her dad, forty years ago.
Cobbled up from twigs, he’d
say, disclaiming artistry.
And yet, the fleurs-de-lis
carved along the headrest,
the palmate ribs.
 
A chair made of sticks, now parched,
caving slowly to the south like an old barn,
nail heads sprouting along the legs.
Forest creature, returned this day
to the cove of its origin, to the very
creek where its young roots once reached.
 
Arranged without ceremony
beneath a withered sister tree.
A gracious lopsided seat in the wilderness,
it seemed, as we paused along the ridge
to look back, then walked on ahead.

Stephen Knauth

is the author of the collections The River I Know You By and Twenty Shadows, both from Four Way Books. His work has appeared in Ploughshares, FIELD, North American Review, Virginia Quarterly Review, New Letters, and Poetry Daily, as well as in numerous anthologies. He has held fellowships from the NEA and the North Carolina Arts Council. A compendium of his work is forthcoming from Four Way Books. He lives in Charlotte.