Maudie on a Metal Lawn Chair



Maudie on a metal lawn chair
long before Rustoleum,
metal lugs and metal bolts
brace the rigid back to rigid arms;
who else would sit there?

She doesn't mind; she spreads
her dress across the seat,
so she feels only that silky, rayon
fabric that old ladies wear;
always floral, always slack enough
for that mysterious slippage
at the bodice.

After a lifetime she's learned
to take her pleasures where she can:
sunlight, Lipton tea and later
all those games of solitaire
where we watched her shuffle,
hand to hand, like a card shark;
small staircases of cards
collapsing back into the deck
like a lifetime.

© Jeanne Wagner, 1996

Poems by Jeanne Wagner



The Albany Poetry Workshop