Like the Sofa She Sits
Like the sofa she sits in memory
The well-worn couch in the thrift store window
Our lives intersected I had hoped we would be
Familiar agreeable comfort grown old
Constant in love though we drifted apart
Shabbily restful the promise of peace
Given to wandering affairs of the heart
Now put on display and seeking release
I stare through glass and think about calling
I could make an offer I could seek a bargain
But I know I won’t do it there’s no point pretending
It’s a thing of the past and there’s really no reason
The old davenport, the long-parted lover
We simply were not made for each other
(By C. Eric Funston)
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