Like a spring tulip, the discarded couch seemed to grow out of the dirty sidewalk
a bit of unintended joy on a city street
Many passed by,stopped to look at it, but kept walking
Even the street people seemed to be awed by its pinkness
Not used to seeing joy, they were confused by it
no one daring to be the first to claim it for the night
No, it stayed against the underpass wall, its feet planted in concrete
a shrine of the discarded
#93
I love the notion of unintended joy...nice, Suz...
ReplyDeleteMy thoughts were more Vegetable than flowers! LOL
ReplyDeletea shrine of the discarded...i like that description suz...even they are unsure of it...so unused to seeing joy...
ReplyDeleteI like this: "its feet planted in concrete"
ReplyDeleteI like it how you saw this one bright piece in a world of grey and grime as joy.
ReplyDelete"..not used to seeing joy, they were confused by it..." Interesting take, especially when connected to the last line.
ReplyDeleteGreat writing Suz (as always).
ReplyDeleteI started mine by using discarded too but it seems like my mood will always end up happy and i canot make it work with the word, so i rewrite it... And seeing your post my sis made me say, that's the reason i sisnt use it, my sis would surely come up with an interesting write... :-)
ReplyDeleteLove it!
JJRod'z
Cute! Love the little life you gave it. ;0)
ReplyDelete...a shrine to the discarded...this is beautiful Suz!
ReplyDelete:-)
It seems so sad to me, sitting there discarded like an unwanted puppy. I suppose I am looking at it with my "half empty" glasses on, not finding joy in it but a sadness...even for the homeless who won't even venture a sit, a rest, a soft place to place a head. But, at least it is pink...the color of joy it seems. Great writing, Suz.
ReplyDelete"Not used to seeing joy..." but you make it so. My street people weren't quite as positive as your!! :)
ReplyDeleteHere's hoping I am NEVER confused by joy! Nice Mag, Suz.
ReplyDeleteYour poem tells a story!
ReplyDeleteI was thinking that to a homeless person, this little couch would be a magical resting place.
ReplyDeleteThis couch, with it's lovely color, would be dragged to their place in an alley,under a freeway, anywhere that they could take it. It would be the new piece of furniture, the good deal found.
To someone this would be more than joy... it would be life itself.
It is unfair to be unceremoniously discarded after all the joys and comfort given. Many find themselves treated that way!
ReplyDeleteHank
You had me at "sprung tulip"! Quite a shrine..
ReplyDeletelove that little light
ReplyDeleteshining in the grey:)
thanks for the ponder,
Jen
Nice ending. I love how you made the pity of being discarded sound so regal.
ReplyDeletei like how it grows out of the sidewalk
ReplyDeletetreasures!
ReplyDeleteboth the sofa and the magpie.
xo
Unintended joy - a shrine of the discarded
ReplyDeleteBeautiful phrases for a poignant poem.