We almost discarded it, the rickety dresser that couldn’t quite find its center
It was covered in a fine layer of dust, the grime a testament to years of neglect
Each drawer was more stuck than the last as if it knew salvation was out of reach,
as if it understood there were better offerings, shiny and new, out there in the world somewhere
Still…
We dragged it out into the lawn, surprised by its lack of heft
We examined its edges, worn by time and no longer clearly defined
We discussed its particular shade of brown and settled on nondescript
We made note of its backside and the places it was beginning to come apart
We began to dismantle it and did our best to be more gentle as it creaked and groaned
We buffed it with the softest cloth we could find and encouraged its inner beauty to shine
We carefully pried off the rusted knobs and admired the nakedness beneath
We wondered about the secrets buried deep in its old oak bones
And then…
We painted it with a bright shade of yellow as if this might will it back to life
We gingerly reattached broken boards, mindful of causing undue stress
We fiddled with drawer fronts until they remembered to stand proud
As a final reward, we adorned each with cheery, hand-painted knobs
We did this together, he and I
We took something broken and made it beautiful once again
We anointed our secrets as they seeped into that new layer of paint
We promised to seek the center in a sometimes rickety life
photo: mine
Beautifully written, restoration is a chore of love, reward by a treasure with flare, containing a memory that’ll always be shared…
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Thank you. I love that your responses are poetry in and of themselves.
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It is looking good! A second chance
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It was a fun project!
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Your writing describes it in a joyful way.
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Thank you!
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A pleasure
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