We spent dinner last night with a couple we
deem dear. Ease is our union. Three
hours together, time was as fleet afoot
as a determined west wind. This
morning, though, I’m dazzled by that humble chair.
I have little recollection of how it held me so well
and inflicted no discomfort. What better can I say
than it was invisible? So
while these lines are not an ode to a chair—nothing so
formal and disciplined as that—they are a tribute
to common comfort. Of course there are chairs
foreign to our bodies and ugly in our sight,
but when we’re so privileged to settle into one—
and forget about it—
and give our attention to what brought us there . . .