Poetry

His Chair

by Michael Chitwood

After lunch
and before he went

back to the fields,
he’d catch a nap

there, a quick 15
minutes he said

“percolated him.” He’s in
the fields for good now

and in that chair,
now in my living room,

his sleep keeps
its eyes on me.

Michael Chitwood was born and raised in the foothills of the VA Blue Ridge Mountains but now works as a freelance writer and college lecturer in Chapel Hill, N.C. His many books of poetry include Salt Works, Whet, The Weave Room and Gospel Road Going, which received the 2003 Roanoke-Chowan Award. His poems can be found in Georgia Review, Poetry and many other venues.

FROM Volume 66, Number 2