Staring
By Xanthe B
Published 29 August 2017
Staring
Careful as an artist
Cradling the fragile man,
like a new born baby
Old wooden legs
on tattered grey carpet
Cream, brown leather
Firm as the skin on an elderly man’s face
Coughs and splutters like a bullet in the air
A rock of worries sits in our lives
Sirens as sharp as needles
As fast as a stampede of horses
We run, but time quickly disappears
Click! Goes the key in the key hole
No one is to be seen
I look around a cleansed room
A brand new chair staring
A limp body, blinking machines
The old brown chair
Lays on the crisp attic floor
Memories look us in the eye, staring
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This poem was Highly Commended (Primary) for Poetry Object 2017
Judge's Notes:
'"Staring” is a study of a chair holding the memory of the man, a loved grandfather perhaps, who used to sit in it. Its mood is tender, and its languaging is rich in original metaphor: “coughs and splutters like a bullet in the air;” “Sirens as sharp as needles.” And it has these lovely lines at its start: 'Careful as an artist/ Cradling the fragile man'."
~ Mark Tredinnick, Judge, Poetry Object 2017
Watch our Poetry Object 2017 digital exhibition:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TukWN1BdcPs
