The Recycled Sofa

It’s not for everyone

The rain outside the window

Chased by a bellowing siren

Distant and cause 

Uncertain

Somehow the romance of the city

It’s not what others would

Consider pretty

But sitting close to the window

That no longer can stay open

Falling under its own weight

We sit and wait

With each other

Hearing the city whisper back

Not all will hear the city and think

Of the romantic dialogue it brings

Friends on the street sing

Bar doors open and clang

Buses whirl past

Breaks well past the point of repair

Alarming sound when stopped

Car horns ask each other question

Well into the night

Much rather being certain

Than polite

And we sit 

Arm in arm 

On our recycled sofa

From the neighbor 

We moved it for her as a favor

Now we relax

In the building with uneven floors

Why would we ask

For anything

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