The pillows lean toward themselves
plumply
gently melting into their chairs
softly folding into
their neighbors
delightfuly reshaping the sofa,
sliding into the old Morris chair
as if they really belong there
instead of on the floor.
I let them move slowly thinking
about their shapes yet leave them
unchanging
every day
never touching them, never
adjusting their slow slide
nor folding their ruffles
not plumping them into some form of
obedience
not adjusting my own
ruffles or long slide either.
ruffles or long slide either.
There's not too much we can do about our own long slide and ruffles lol.
ReplyDeleteIt’s great, Mage. Love the descriptors! Well done!
ReplyDeleteLeft to their own devices, they move ever so slowly.
ReplyDeleteHow creative to turn pillows into a delightful poem with a title from a new movies/old book too.
ReplyDeleteLoved your poem. Old pillows seeking their place are a lot like us aren't they?
ReplyDeleteNice... it just draws you along, line by line, soft as can be, until you reach the end.
ReplyDeleteLovely poem of acceptance.
ReplyDelete