The Writing Chair
by Lawrence Weber
A fixed point in a world that’s in flux,
You offer yourself silently so that I find repose.
Upholding all my unconventional ideas,
You provide me with a forum to express myself.
As I face the uncertainty of unforgiving words,
Your reticence reminds me to listen more carefully.
When fear and doubt creep into my soul,
Your steadfast deportment tempers my trial.
When called again as always to pour myself out,
You welcome me back like a long-lost friend.
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